Disappearance Of Forests

Poem By Uriah Hamilton

I fear for the disappearance of forests
And if the song of birds should cease,
The desolate days when every path of wildflowers
Will be paved into further lonely streets,

Though sometimes I feel like the king
Among the abandoned elements of the urban decay,
Presiding over sad ruins of discontent
Where old ladies fill dusty decrepit pews
In prayer-quiet churches.

But what will children do
When they cannot drive far enough away
To find a sacred place void of billboards that scream
Inadequacies and addictions?

There may become a time when nothing remains
But empty beer bottles and despair,
When even simple pleasures like watching a woman
Brush her daughter’s hair on a summer picnic
Will fail to exist.
Inspired by a line by Justinas Marcinkevicius: I fear for forests and for birds taken from The Frozen Sea

Comments about Disappearance Of Forests

This is a beautiful lamentation for a dying and irretrievable beauty. Susie.
This is amazing and you have given the reader a beautiful present.'To find a sacred place void of billboards that scream Inadequacies and addictions? Lets hope that we as one people can see and act to change this in the most possitive of ways.A ballance is what we need.But lets not tip the scales so far that we topple over with them.Your A Star, Uriah and a great thinker.Love Duncan
Beautiful and thought-provoking. Having been born and raised in Alaska I share your love and appreciation of nature and fear that the 'Great Outdoors' may someday no longer exist. Well done. S
This is truly beautiful! ! I share this fear. The time I spend out in the woods or by the river is more precious to me than anyone could know. It is getting harder to find those secluded, untouched spots to enjoy. Great poem Sincerely, Mary

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That our eyes are sore and red;
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She was weeping when we met
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Where the lonely purchase their wine;
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I’m writing the poetry of fragile souls
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Of hopeful but fleeting romance.

Bob Dylan Heard The Voice

Bob Dylan heard the voice
Of a poet who died in the gutter;
That dying voice
Then seeped into his soul

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I don’t desire to wear a sad face too long
When I know I live in a world of flowers and birds
And that the evening will usher in a sky of scattered stars,
When I know hopeful prayers and songs

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Get rebuilt until a skyline