Untitled

[Bookthief]

Tormented,
years before,
years to come,
Corrupted and abused,
covered with muck.
There is no luck,
only reality, only being.
This land we call home,
would be better off alone.
Without horrendous treatment.
People--or demons?
Not all, but some.
No sympathy, no courtesy.
Look. Listen. Learn.
Open your eyes, open your heart.
keep in mind, keep in thought.

[skib]

I like the theme of your poem, Bookthief. We really don't treat our planet as well as it deserves- it is just a playground that we will not be able to abandon when it is trashed.

[Bookthief]

Thanks.

I hear ya.
I mean when I see my boyfriend or someone I know litter and not give a crap about mother earth, it ticks me off.
We know we need plants/trees to give us oxygen and vis-versa.
We know that all the debris we produce is harming our environment, and yet we seem
to produce even more.
All the pollution from factories/cars(unfortunately) is causing harmful upbringings to our surroundings.
We now have hybrid cars to replace the oil consuming ones, but it's only a small percentage that uses them.

[Bookthief]

Morning sun,
bright and high
Your warmth is what
I need, keep me
from the cold
shine your rays
through,
Burning fire on
my face,
I feel it,
safe with grace,
every day, I await
To be here now,
to be here later--
or will it be gone
forever?