We are the guardians,
In this environment that’s kind of alien.
Vast possibilities,
Endless opportunities.
And we throw it away.
In the river,
Rubbish flows.
In the forest,
Litter grows.
But there are those,
Who wish to fix it.
There are guardians,
Of these fragile gardens.
Solar power,
Green power.
Water flows,
Lights glow.
We depend,
On the thing we throw away.
But there are those,
Who wish to fix it.
Hi Thomas, great work on your poem, I like the vocab you used and the deep meaning behind it. I don’t think there’s anything you need to improve on but you can edit and change/delete anything if you want. Good job!
Hello, thanks for your comment. I appreciate your support, but I think there is probably something that I missed or did wrong. Thank you!