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Some dirtied revolution raid
Aversely set to senses made
Came across abandoned Glade
Kind meaning and discolored
In raging voices politic
Not violent as abrasive schtick
No point was made to skin so thick
Still eating up the future
Yet hurt so real is and was
Tomorrow's lives the less a-buzz
for all the posturing because
No Horseshoe Sets in motion
Now once in place so near beside
Where trees woud shelter and would hide
Machinery moves love aside
as the birds discern the longing
[And Paradise becomes a roadway,
now with more Condominiums
built over the Parkinglot]
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