Where once sunlight fell, now shadows fall.
No more the shine on smiling face.
Where once thoughts born, now no dream’s new.
No more created, things not yet made.
Where once love blossomed, now none meet.
No more lovers tender embrace
And homes now forever gone.
Where once was soil, now business grows.
No more the nourishing crop be laid.
Where once was grass, now slab below.
No more the green, but the gray.
Where lovers once lay, now concrete sits.
No more the soft comforting glade.
And they say progress goes on.
Where once we strolled, now no path leads.
No more walkways, to daily cross.
Where once we talked, now no air breathes.
No more wind, kid’s hair to toss.
Where children once played, now none may go.
No memories they, or sense of loss.
And so all, continue on.
Where once were streams, now power lines flow.
No more the calm and bubbling brook.
Where once were free, now dammed, withheld.
No more the natural course be took.
Where once was fresh, real, true.
No more beauty upon to look.
And soul deep thrown.
Where once was life, now no tracks lead.
No more their calls, now ever lost.
Where once were many, varied, free.
No more afford, that what cost.
Where once untamed, wild and proud.
No more their kind, known nor mourned.
Never more they, now to spawn.
Where once we stood, now nothing.
No flowers left, all grass gone.
Where once we laughed, now sadness.
No growth fresh to look upon.
Where once was life, now soulless lot.
No new, inspired, created, begun.
And growth goes on.
Where once sun bright about us lay
No more the streams and rivers flow
Where once moons sight heavy as night
No more reflection natural know
Where once stones hard and deep at rest.
No more untouched, placemark stole
How much our lands blood be drawn.
Where once our history placed at rest.
No more the bed within to lay.
Where once our past at peace put.
No more their plot eternal remain.
Where once always forever stilled.
No more respect their memories paid.
As callous over spirit thrown.
Where once were trees, now stumps protrude.
No more the cool of the summer shade cast.
Where once were groves of sentinels strong
No more the guardians of natures past.
Where once we climbed on natures limbs.
No more that branch, now photos last.
The past from our future torn.
When will it be wrong?