Poem Hunter
My Nose Is Growing Old
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My Nose Is Growing Old

Poem By Richard Brautigan

The land is lit in morning tone,
As early dawn in glow does break.
Afoot they've fled, on wings they've flown.
As creatures sensed instincts to take.
The densely populated zone
Violently begins to shake.
With nature's fury felt full blown,
Millions of lives are put at stake.
Surrendering its steel and stone,
The city crumbles in the wake.
Lifetimes are ripped from flesh and bone,
Lost in the wreckage of the quake.

The Earth is not for man to own.
Nature has ways to make that known.

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