A man stands in the falling water,
Black outlines his figure.
I stand there, staring at the mysterious organism,
Squinting my eyes in the darkness.
He is gone.
The trees sway in the rhythm of the wind,
Bushes rustle and twigs crackle under a pair of enormous feet,
And the mysterious figure looms over me,
Red eyes; the only thing I can see in the night.
They enlargen and expand by an almost colossal amount,
And then nothing.
The only thing I can hear is the blood in my ears.
Then I awaken,
And find myself in the bed I lay,
With the darkness that surrounds me.

As the compact square drifts into my mouth,
Cocoa fireworks ascend, shooting up at the speed of light,
Leaving the milky texture tinging in my mouth.
As heat slowly melts it; as it grows not up but down,
I can feel it slide smoothly down the tunnel that is my throat,
Still descending into a dark crevice,
Never to be seen again.
Fairtrade is one of many kinds,
Like Asian, African, American of our race.
A saviour object, one that can give so much,
To change the lives of millions,
To give them one thing that most people need.
Hope.

Green is the air that fills my lungs every day of every night,
Green is the big bushes on tall stalks of brown; swaying in the wind's song.
Green is the reflection of the grass through a small drop of water;
The early morning dew.
Green is the colour of Mother Nature; the calm, serene colour to show for it,
Green is me; a kind, caring colour, there for everyone.

And will live it's life,
In a round hemisphere, known only as...
The Earth.