Hemmingway

The sanctuary from my childhood dream Torn apart by beaurocratic gain, Nothing is sacred from the dollar Destroying all beauty on earth. It once was a bushland wilderness A hill, overlooking my house, Where we used to run along the bush tracks Racing eachother, trying to excel. Then the noise came, an unmistakable rumble Clearing away all that was of my childhood, Hopes, dreams, feelings that were let go Piece by piece as the land …showed first 75 words of 215 total…

…showed last 75 words of 215 total…