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The Art of Our Own Destruction
There once was a time
A time where we could walk outside
A time that all we saw was
The soaring of birds effortlessly flying,
The clear blue ocean-like sky,
We could hear the crisp of brown dried leaves when we walked.
These times changed.
When some walk outside
They can’t go a day without seeing an innocent bird
getting shot down by a hunter.
Or even looking at the sky and seeing a thick cloud of pollution.
And all we hear is the roar of engines speeding down the highways.
Our world has changed.
Changed to a time where we are scared to go outside
to see what we have become.
![](http://cdn.teenink.com/art/Feb08/CrossTree72.jpg)
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