Deforestation
Learn more about other poetry terms
Our world,
slowly dying a painful death,
We are destroying it.
Our lovely planet is dying,
From litter
deforestation,
Contamination,
And huminity
Were are we when our world needs?
The animals live as they
are adapted to live, but never more.
They are primitive. Without free thought,
without art and culture,
without clothing. The trees give shade
and shelter to the animals
A golden beam of sunlight shines through scattered patches.
Gold reflects on every surface.
The trees illuminate in a sunny yellow,
Signifying the timeless beauty that fall has bestowed.
Tears have stories
It ain't for human only.
Earth do cry at times.
We never see those..
Coz, only human can
Human ain't human right now
Just a bulk of organs
Human never existed.
Alone, in a destroyed forest
It stood in the middle
Elegantly composed
Surrounded by burnt trees and flayed shrubs
Another gust of wind arises, awakening the silent world.
The trees talk with their rustling ferns communicating with an unknown code.
They speak of fear and plead and pray.
Forest all around
No compass can direct
Our guide where to go
He is lost
He wanders
Aimlessly
We are lost
The trash, I see, like sand on your green grasses
Littered so far, so wide, it’s like the stars in the sky
Do they not see your beauty? Do they not see their cruelty?
Up on the hill in Deer Island Park, a sicamore is felled.
no one attends it's funeral, or wears a black veil in it's honour.
a man used to sleep under that tree, a woman took her children there for picnics.
The final call echoes over the land
Plateaus of history stand still
Shreds of song remain silent
Piles of wisdon lay empty
Beings of life wander away
Bodies of calmness quicly escape
I took a walk into the trees,
Alone and without fear.
The wind whistled through leaves,
A song that was just for me.
Just a Tree
When the first fingers of light start to summon back earth’s vibrant greens,
You and He both stir.
I hear you prick through your brittle shell
Trees,
A thousand years old,
Touched by a thousand hands,
Fingers trailing softly over rough bark.
Trees,
A thousand feet high,
Home to a thousand birds,
The wind whips me, yet I don't fall.The rain rolls down my back.Thousands of my twins stand tall.Together we stand and will not crack.
To the masses nobody knows exactly what perturbs this young man,
Verily, while my judgment rarely be cast I do house quirks of my own,
Quirks that make my blood seem to boil and seethe with rage unconquered,
I dream in Green
I dream in shades of emerald and jade
I dream in trees
In plants, in mountains
And sea
What do you want to be when you grow up?
When we are young
We don’t think much of the answer
It is too far away-
I stretch my span of wing, in the air once again
My senses are heightened, carefully I listen;
Silence.
I fly over forest, why is the green so thin?
A child of the spring,
just like me,
we grew together.
With each passing year,
1, 2, 3,
I came to know you.
On every birthday
I could see
how we had changed,
and I loved how
If everyone read National Geographic
There would not be as many things to report about
in National Geographic
If young girls were surrounded by images of beauty and strength
The natural world is disapearing, right before our eyes.
Yet everyone is all for it, and it comes as no surprise.
They'll bulldoze an entire forest, then turn the other cheek.
There once was a planet,a ball of rock, dirt, and granite.Full of life, lush with green,it was like a heavenly dream.Populated with beasts of every kind,the void of the universe it redefined.
Why did we let the ocean die?
Why do we allow children to starve?
Why is the world at war?
Why can people get away with murder?
Why are we running out of resources?
Why are we killing the forests?
