Riches Only Cause Stitches.

Riches only cause stitches.

From deep within my heart of gold, I know a certain truth to be told.

That upon our demise, we will look upon the skies, and gods of old with hear our cries.

The year have flown like bullets; we’ve stuffed our gullets.

Thrown hate towards any and all who didn’t share our fate.

We’ve tricked and traded our land for contraband.

The end of us will be the rebirth of earth, and I pray for her.

She loved us.

Nurtured us.

Provided food.

Lush forests.

Places to be tourists.

Seas of fish.

Horses for riding.

Livestock for eating.

Rain for crops.

Wind for flowers.

And here all along, we’ve been cowards.

We will cease to exist long before she retires, and we’ve earned this fate with our desires.

Minerva Violet