Summer grays


Walking down the street,
eyes aimed at her feet,
fingers pinched,
nostrils clenched,
she ponders of cleaner air,
kissing her face as she steps out her lair.

A car whizzes past,
leaving a trail that does last,
making her huff and cough,
and wonder with a laugh,
"If only I could behold the sky azure,
it would be utopia for sure!"

Pick up those shoes and go for a walk,
you’ll see for yourself and begin to gawk,
for it does seem that we couldn’t care,
or give “two f**ks” as some may swear,
about the toxic sludge we breathe and drink,
that puts us on extinction’s brink.

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