Sad flows the pristine street, mother nature fringing sweet, souls drowning in steady beat.
Glancing now a furrowed brow, lies smiling and hurried low, touching not the air we breath.
Green is good or so we hear, and broken what we hold so dear. Cracks and crimes, dollars and dimes, now we bow, sinking quietly to ground.
And yes, the sun is shining, within it’s own dirty lining, bringing lies to those who seek truth from all created speak.