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Progress (a concrete jungle)
Cloudy green
Lush Forest, made
of the stuff
dreams are made of,
a jungle of
culture and
heritage-
now a
city.
Dull grey
buildings, wailing
cries of bustling
cars in the
distance.
Skyscrapers, Skyscrapers
scrape
the
sky.
and the ever-
progressing society
labels it a
Jungle. All
these trucks
and bulldozers,
all part of
the immutable
progression of
Time,
of the long
and dreary
process we call
Development.
And
Skyscrapers, Skyscrapers
they
scrape
the
sky.
poem
by
Ballerina With Fins
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black