A paradise lost
A paradise lost He sat on the overturned rock Alone but not lonely longing for the past Longing for what's lost For he can't keep pace with the present His old heart yearning for the days When the valley below was lively Missing the singing and whistling As men and boys herded their flocks He longed for the times When friendships were true When handshakes were warm And sharing was the norm The streams are now dry All trees and bushes cleared In their place a concrete jungle The singing replaced by deafening noises No more streams Where clear waters flowed Only streets flowing With motorists and pedestrians A high population of lonely humans Always hurrying to destinations unknown Some living for the next meal Others for the next deal All busy making a living As life passes by © Felister Mboya