The rush..the ruthless cycle..
The concrete jungle with its tricks and traps..
Rare is the glimpse of green any ..
The breeding land of bucket crabs....

Which once sang the glory of lush green...
Now sees colours , of the concrete and running wheelers.
Divided into supreme and inferior
Beholding the believers and non believers..

The blues saw grey ; the smoke's sabotage ,
Even the rains seem to stumble..
who wants to provide to the greedy two leggeds.?
Nature's unloved ; the masters of concrete jungle...

#poem #writer


© Samar_.