The effect of our affect is now.
For when are children grow up….
Desolation the landscape.
Malice and hypocrisy the environment.
Little toy gods.
Plastic human drones.
Scraps of foreign lands in our dirty hands.
In the depths of my reclusive forest…the honesty shines through…
‘nothing can stop the time.’
While, in the bowels of my vacant downtown,
the faces have no name.
The children of hate…conceived for money and fame.