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Sunday, March 6, 2011

Contrast




Flying high above her

My lungs full of crisp

Clean air

I look down upon

Nature's creation

A creation of beauty, peace and solitude

A tear forms in my eye

And I ask myself

How?

Flying high above her

My lungs full of dirty

Stale air

I look down upon

Mans creation

A creation of rust, lust and no trust

A tear forms in my eye 

And I ask myself 

Why?

 

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