Foolish Creatures

This is where the blood stains turn to brown,

Where life ends and survival begins.

This city we call home harbors so many lies.

What did we do to turn it into dust?

What have we done?

There is blood on our once white carpets.

Mud in our once clear lakes.

Disease is our once clean city.

We have damaged ourselves.

The cutter who stains the carpet.

The humans who waste the vital trees,

And let the sand seep into our lakes.

The disease that we bring to ourselves.

We've ruined everything.

What foolish creatures we are.