Amidst  a lush farm of green as far as the eye can see
Is a barren plot of soil that is as dead as dead can be

No plant will take seed there
No fertile soil to produce or replicate
Dry patch of earth, so unwanted
Such an eye soar to the surrounding farms

Void of all nutrients
Void of life giving springs
Dust and brown decay fill the air
No harvest will exist there
How sad that the reason for its existence does not apply
How sad no farmer will take the time to tend her, care for her
Time to turn over the soil until life is reborn far beneath the surface.