History is full of heads

put on sticks to make their threads

chinese liked to chop they say

emperors to make their day


chainsaws oversounding cries

of all trees that we put down

lack of oxygen in skies

face with a deep grasping frown


there’s no need to slice the neck

we can not put the tree back

stop at once or take a break

see at once what is at stake


if we’re ruining the Woods

there will be no breath to take

we will sufficate en mass

fading in the lonely grass










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