Papers on the floor,
drowning as I bore.
I ponder what I see,
I wonder what could be.
Dull be the world,
we never learn.
Smoke and debris,
we're never free.
Blame it on the top,
I hope they soon drop.
Blame it on the low,
they followed them though.
Others came to mark,
others to be marked.
Then it soon spreads,
that's what I dread.
On my papers,
there I see her.
Simply wanting to color,
world of discarded matter.
YOU ARE READING
World Of Discarded Matter
PoetryThey say the world is beautiful, but it is of discarded matter. It's because of us. I can't be the only one seeing it, can I..? This very world will put those who see it, in despair. Why does no one fix it? I don't understand. If they have so much p...
