How Sad the Stench Among the Flowers

 Stench How sad the acid tears that fall
But are never seen,
That burn as fire deep within
Dark crevices of Earth,
Like seeds watered by poisoned greed.

How bad the stench among fragrant flowers,
Red roses mixed with blood,
Roots wrapped tight around rotting bones.
Still at night the music plays
As blind dancers hear discordant tune.

Why do the wealthy no longer wear white gloves?
Do they think their hatred of the poor
Cannot be seen by those who starve?
Walk out into the slime and silence late at night.
Hear the fracking Earth as it cries,
Black tears oozing endlessly,
Ghostly waters along ocean shore fading
Through smog of early morning light
As we watch Great Mother slowly being raped.

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