Decay
Come down, come down
To the sound of the wind
Feel the cattails blow across ones face.
As the red wing black bird sings
The song is one that most protest
Hear the song whisper on
And one will hear perfection
Of nature’s harmony
So end industry
And do not bottle perfection in a zoo
For what a person does not want to view
Is decay, frustration, and death
Copyright © Paul Keenan | Year Posted 2011
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