The air was to dry to breathe
And the sun always forgot to shine
Her roots were surrounded by degraded soil
And the planters never tended her needs
When invasive seeds developed through
her ripening soul
She still grew though.
More beautifully and greater
Than anyone could have ever imagined
Now drenched in betrayal,
this spring, she will not bud
and the potential of possibly
growing limbs is only imagination
perhaps, maybe she killed herself
when she opened herself up to a plastic world
there wasn't anything to feed her soul
Every word was dispersed through the air
as toxic fumes
and so she slowly began to wilt
knowing she had lost
because synthetic life
never fades away
