Trillium Beneath the Pines: An Original Poetry Compilation

Industrial Springtime

I want to dance
In a field of waterleaf and trillium

I want the stars to sing a song
So I can dance their lullaby of freedom

I want to feel the westward wind
Dripping spring rains against my cheeks

I want to sing until creeks dance
Their bubbling brooks like laughter

But I can't be free from the corded vines
That tug my feet and drag me under

And I can't flee the metal flowers
Gilded in gold and rotting.

I'm blinded to blue waters
Where now lay your tar rivers

I cannot flee these cruelties
These hazy asphalt fields I hate

The embrace that you call home,
It's a blade against my throat.

These iron bars will end me
I'm a canary in your coal mine.

And the toxic fumes will strangle me
They'll rip my song away

The industrial springtime is dark as night
Cold as the ice it melts.

And you may see your cage
As a wall against the world

But in the end, it'll clip your feathers
And you'll choke on the fumes you spew

These iron vines, these gilded flowers, these tar rivers
They've doomed us all to die

And still, with shackles on your wrists
You believe this is freedom.

Author's note: This on may get edited one day... Inspired by my worst fear: that I will never escape the suburbs. I see how the industrialization of the world has come at a cost, specifically to the natural world. I wish it could be undone, but that's the curse of humans!