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.