The years were good, and
the crop grew strong and tall
never failing to give its best,
Praising the sun and rain
for always giving;
Equally, consistently.
Until that year; The year
the rain stopped, the soil
hardened with life destroying
Protection, trying and failing
in a vicious cycle of
hate and love. By the time
The farmer realized it was dying,
he watered every night and
fanned all day, only to be met with
Surprise when the crop withered
with nothing left to give, forever;
Leaving a scar the days can never erode.
