From ancient worlds to modern times,
Castle laden lands and the skyscrapers' rise.
Who we are and what we do
Defined by society raised we choose;
With two predetermined labels we act accordingly
Upon our lives we set a path
Through vast woodland meadows and sweet Poppies' past
Butterflies fluttering about so delicately and untouched.
To the sharp edges of jagged cliffs and stone
With water, deep blue, swift barreling below.
But what of deserts with hot searing sand
Touching the roots of green cacti that lay
Protected by their spines they blend into the land
That passerbys look and say:
Not me, not I who would live in this land?
What a fool they must be to enjoy
Such an arid sight and sun so bright
I cannot bare to see it another day.
But passerbys do not perceive the joy this land can bring
For lizards too small for the jagged cliffs,
Tortoise shells stark dull against Poppies.
Where are they supposed to go
When this land is their only hope.
Do we lie and deny that deserts exist
Just to take away their home,
Do we say the meadow or the cliff
Is where they truly belong?
It may be hard to see that these are not their homes,
Nor destiny that they could hold.
Yet it may be perfect for you and me
When we ourselves do not connect
To the desert land that is their own.
When the crippling heat wards away our comfort zone
Do we take them to ours for them only to feel alone?
Or do we sit in our woodland meadows with sweet smells all around,
And jagged cliffs with sharp stone
And think back to the desert with arid sights and a sun too bright
Say, it just wasn't for me
Then carry on in our meadows and cliffs living life as we please
