President bird,
surrounded by a flock of
migratory birds,
flew in from a distant land
to our land one day.
All accorded,
a green carpet reception,
following the protocol.
President bird
And his flock,
Flew around the land,
Of greenery,
Perched on greenery -
on getting tired.
‘Blessed land’ –
President bird-
whispered to his flock.
The flock shook
their heads in approval.
The sights of
Dark smoke billowing
from the tunnels of factories
and melting into
the air -
flying over the
islands of industry
filled him with
a sense of sadness.
Reminded him of
his own land,
land of emitting
greenhouse gases freed
into the skies
with factories, furnaces,
concrete jungles
spread around vast areas
poisoning the whole atmosphere.
Date of flying-
back to his land
arrived.
With a heavy heart
President bird,
surrounded by his
flock flew back
dreaming of
a carpet of greenery.
Thoughts over
smokes of sorrow
erasing the greenery
like his own land –
his eyes full to the brim
with tears.
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