The Ballad Of Two Young Lovers
where the pipeline meets the lake
spewing sewage in its wake
several snowdrops grow and help to paint God’s earth
and as acid rains from clouds
upon the litter strewn by crowds
lines of daffodils speak more than words are worth.
next to piles of household waste
tipped by those who fly in haste
there are bluebells growing wild on urban floors
and while the plumes of factory smoke
suffocate disperse and choke
there are birds migrating to these hallowed shores.
where graffiti daubs the wall
of society’s wrecking ball
there’s a patch where tulips dance beneath our sky
and as shards of broken glass
lie in pieces on the grass
two young lovers holding hands walk slowly by.
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