the dawn caresses silky strands of blue
framing a slumbering marred face,
crevices and chips in porcelain skin
carved out with brutal efficiency
and moral apathy.
where rusted brown meets fading green,
small hands braid withering strands of grass,
silently promising under the brightening sky
that she would kiss each wound
until the valley bloomed with life
and the porcelain face became bright and smooth
A/N: Please take care of the earth.
Here’s a helpful website on some simple ways to get started:
As much as we like to say the buzzwords of today, there is very little action… I don’t want to see the day where I only see concrete labyrinths, cages in disguise, of buildings and asphalt.