All seems to be in a mess
The four cardinal point seems hopeless
The centre can no longer hold
Caused by a costly negligence by people of the colour;
Green, white, Green

I see a great multitude
Nothing compared to those of ancient five loaves and two fish
But this time,
Not all are humans

Crooked voices still yell
Gallons are being thrown up
Ready for the unpleasant gestures of an opponent
Cars bump into one another
All chanting the chorus ’’this is my space’’, ’’THIS IS MY SPACE!’’

Nearby, stood a beautiful clayed second rib of Adam
Heavily bestowed with rounded middle
Both hands on her waist,
One leg west,
the other east.
Obviously, her back hurts

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