The Inconsiderate Specie
The rustling of leaves, the dancing of trees, the chirping of birds, the splashing of waters, the sound of moving squirrels, the deep sound of dropping leaves, the heavy footsteps of humans usually due to the accumulation of dry leaves over one another, the cool breeze, the natural environment... that makes time insignificant and takes your troubles away were, inter alia, attributes of the woods in whose midst i sat for hours five years ago.
Today, as i passed through the site where the woods once stood, all that reminds me of the stream that once flowed was a dirt-packed erosion. No more tree shade, just the visible sky due to deforestation. No more cool breeze, just the hot afternoon sun. No more little plants, just buildings under construction for expansion. No more soft landing, just the hard-hearthen earth due to consistent human movement. No more natural environment, just an artificial one that adds to your troubles.
Why can't we just keep it the way it was for ours and their sake? I keep asking myself. Why must we construct at the detriment of the environment? The birds that chirps, the squirrels that run and jump were things of the past. All we now have are humans who curse and argue everytime; the inconsiderate specie who think of only themselves. Gosh!
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Submitted on April 24, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:06 min read
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Quick analysis:
Scheme | X X X |
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Characters | 1,280 |
Words | 221 |
Stanzas | 3 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 1, 1 |
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"The Inconsiderate Specie" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Mar. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/86961/the-inconsiderate-specie>.
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