The Aftermath
The clouds would be whiter
The sky bluer
My nightmares would turn into dreams
My dreams into reality
They say the world is perfect now
We all know that is not the truth
Lies they tell us and the questions stop
Is this really what we are supposed to do
Trees are no longer green
And there is no more in between
What little is left has turned to soot and ash
And our world is left a pile of trash
Guide that inspired this poem: