*Author’s Note: This poem is designed to raise awareness in an
exaggerated sense, and should not be interpreted as an unfinished story consciously speaking negatively. For more information, ask author.*

…

~whoosh~

Pygmy plastic bag,
Ferried by the wind.
Dragged around like a rag doll,
Nowhere near a bin.

Zephyr pulls the vacuous bag,
Past different sights.
Bars, seminary, restaurants —
Polluted scenes which’ll give a fright.

All around these spots,
Rubbish floods your vision.
All you can percieve,
Is our streets, our sea, in their crumbling condition.

It makes you wonder,
“How did things get to this?”
It makes you ponder,
“Is our world becoming an abyss?”

“Is this even our world anymore?”

“Oh, please; no, it’s not.”

Some people smile: “It’s not that bad.”
Well, just look out your window.
“The trash will be gone soon enough.”
That’s not how the story goes.

“Man is the only animal that fouls its own nest.”
—Anonymous

Made by Saniya Gill