The Disease of Deforestation
Looking down on jaded canopies, Blinded eyes quickly cast their Milky gaze across logging That persists without permission And wildfires that raze without restraint; Ploughing
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
Looking down on jaded canopies, Blinded eyes quickly cast their Milky gaze across logging That persists without permission And wildfires that raze without restraint; Ploughing
We rip apart the Earth on which we stand, Try tame the wild for all that we have planned; Now caught up in our thoughts