Day Two: The Lone Patch

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There was a time when it was all green here,
That time is long gone now,
There’s all but green here now!
Civilisations are born past, skulls, murders and cries I know,
Those cries, those skulls, they do have a purpose you know.
Purpose? you say.
Purpose, yes.
To fill you with guilt, sorrow, remorse;
But there were no cries, when the green was murdered.
There was, we were all just too blunt I guess,
We chose to ignore, face the other way.
When will their cries reach our minds?
When will we face the death?
When will we take note of the skulls?
Perhaps tomorrow.
Perhaps never.

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