Shooting stars or flashing lights.
Steps to Heaven or fancy flights.

Craft of man replaced with the craft of machine.
Metallic forests
Gleaming in sunlight,
Emitting the fumes that are choking humanity,
Ignored by the ones that have caused this calamity.

Suffered by those who are slave to the rich,
Trained to aim for the skies ending up stuck in a ditch.

Those unworthy like a pigmentation of the skin.
The freckles of society,
Those with a hidden worth,
Rejected by the top
A generational curse,
Never destined to stop.