The world is like a blossoming flower
But what do we do,
We deface that which gives life
We dig up the
Roots,
Pluck all  the
Beauty,
Contaminate the
Water,
She drinks for life,
And what is left, just a Broken stem
No longer beautiful
Dying,
Abused,
Neglected,
What once blossomed for so much time,
Now is dying before our eyes.

If life were a cup
It would be neither
Empty,
Or
Full,
Like life it would have
Many different tastes,
Each cup designed
For each individual,
Each to suit those
And their lives
That they lead.