Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

Wasteland

Wasteland

 

Herds of clouds travel by at sonic speed

Appearing to have meetings to attend

Never looking down at my drastic need

Lacking pity not a tear to expend

 

Once my fields produced many bumper crops

Filling the air with my sweet summer wheat

Now a flat arid brown mosaic corpse

Giving absolutely nothing to eat

 

Every living creature has moved away

Land...

Read and leave comments (0)

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message