A decaying tree that reaches out,
With heavy arms beckoning imaginings forth
It's a hazard.
Strap on red-tape bracelets,
We'll make it safe for our children to play.
A weedy jungle of discarded treasure,
The old parking lot
It's a waste of space.
Slap down high-rise apartments,
We'll make good money.
A strange metaphor in the child's story,
From the heart/mind/soul
It's unnecessary.
We need to simplify and purify.
Your elders know better, because
We
Have
Lost
Our
Love.