Progress
PROGRESS
A plastic sun, paper moon, painted sky of blue
End will come very soon no matter what we do
Manmade plants, not so nice but real ones never grow
Have a go toss the dice, one above and six below
Odds all fall against you, no one wins today
Some try but only just a few, yet no one gets their way
Our world is no use anymore even man can be replaced
In time the human substitute will be a brand new metal race
Copyright © Maureen Timmins | Year Posted 2010
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