Woke up one day and peered outside my window,
Steel towers and skyscrapers galore.
But between all the constructed structures,
Something was no more.
It’s supposed to be the monsoons,
But, nothing seems to be wet.
The mud seems dry and the sun is harsh,
How cruel can the weather get?
I admire the freshly tarred flyovers,
Running above the supermarkets adorned street.
But, through the stunning architecture,
All I felt was sweltering heat.
Airports are dazzling with interiors,
As I travel to other cities.
Wide areas of greens have been cut down,
To cater to corporate necessities.
From up in the air, I spot my city below,
Where my glorious childhood had been.
But now I only see the colours grey and brown,
Where once there were beautiful shades of green.
Photo by Brian Lazo
Where is the Green is part of Blogchatter’s CauseAChatter.