I Won’t Tell You Again

It is time

For me to write

This cold pollution

Has won the fight


Art is dead

Look and see

The art of life

The trees agree


It is time

For me to write

Words of mine

Words of mind


We’re thick and creamy

Deliciously light

We like to love

We love to fight


Pleasure is sold

For cash in the hand

The real price

This precious land


The selfish, the greedy

the primitive past

Learning the lesson?

Changing at last?


Learning to look?

Willing to see?

Climbing the ladder?

Planting the tree?


But the future is waiting

To revenge our sin

To witness the scorched earth

Where we had once been.