Little Things

Little Things
Form: Sonnetina Due

The rivers are dry without rain
No water to ease thirsty pain
Dry sandy beds echo the past
There's nothing left, it went so fast
When we put desire before need
Sating only the human greed
Ignoring the warnings made clear
Heeding nowt refusing to hear
So, blind we believed all was well
Indeed, this is the road to hell


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