Treasure Island

David Harris

(18 June 1945 / Bradfield, England)

A Bitter Tear


The falling leaves of autumn
lay scattered where they fall
nurturing the land with goodness
before their end days call.
Yet here we stand superior beings
or so ourselves we think
as we poison this good earth,
never giving anything back.
We take and take and take
until one day in the future
we will come to realise
the error of our ways
and all the mistakes we have made.
When one day the beauty is gone
and only a land of dust remains,
that we who should be guardians
will realise to our shame.
It will be too late
to turn back from the abyss
that we have created in our greed.
We will have ruined everything
we say we hold dear,
and then we will know
what it is like to cry a bitter tear.
Generation after generation
will have drained the world of life
and end up with nothing
to show for all their greed.
The pastures once fertile
will be barren and bare.
The forests that now team with life
will no longer be there.
Death will rear its ugly head
as the waters will be unsafe to drink
and all we will have to greet us every day
is a dry and arid land.
Unless we wake up soon
and look at the problems in hand,
we will end up alone
on a bare and lifeless land.

15 September 2008

Submitted: Saturday, October 11, 2008

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