Wasteland

 

Herds of clouds travel by at sonic speed

Appearing to have meetings to attend

Never looking down at my drastic need

Lacking pity not a tear to expend

 

Once my fields produced many bumper crops

Filling the air with my sweet summer wheat

Now a flat arid brown mosaic corpse

Giving absolutely nothing to eat

 

Every living creature has moved away

Land lays barren totally depleted

As I had become greedy farmers' prey

Alone now knowing that I was cheated

 

Will take generations my soil to heal

Then new farmers will come again to steal