The Machines


The sound of the machines pushing through the forest

The majestic trees falling and breaking the shade.

Birds shrieking as they flee the crashing trees


She was always the hunter, boss of the jungle

Now, being hunted was foreign to her sense

Prowling back to her home, every footstep uncertain.


The machines are deadly  bullets ripping through our forests

The destroyers no longer feel the splitting sound of the trees

How do they sleep knowing the only thing they have completed is destruction?

  1. #1 by XxcheesesesxX on May 29, 2011 - 5:26 am

    I think its a well written poem that is powerful even though it doesn’t rhyme.
    Its well worded.
    I wish there were a better understanding of what this poem is protesting.

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