Smoke residue chipping off
Mama's old rocking chair
We protest and make our cries
No one listens, only money talks
What about the babies?
What about their future?
But they see no reason for concern
With pockets brimming gold and green
A job well done, many accolades await
We cough and choke from the refuse
Circling the air we live in and water we bathe in
The elderly are now few and far between
We die young here with soot covering the earth
Trees and flowers once flourished
Now fading away as progress is made
1st Place Poetry Winner in The Environmental And Wildlife Contest May 2012
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