The Black Forest

Before it happened, 
I was driving through St Louis-looking at power lines.
Just like Dallas-so many ugly power lines.
I hate when there are so many power lines everywhere.

DId I just not see these at home?
Every time I see these I wonder, why do I hate them
So much, an immense frustration every time
They offend my eyes and ruin cute little towns.

There was a sigh, and I gave myself some credit,
Colorado Springs MUST be better than these cities,
And Naples too…well…maybe, I don’t know
If I can remember anymore…

Well, maybe we have better tax programs?
When I voted, I voted for tax dollars right?
For help when bad things happen, 
And every day maintenance and beauty.

Well our tax dollars must be put to better use,
In both of my deepest homes, Body mother and alma mater, 
They take care of pretty streets better than everyone else.
But now their destroyed again.

Flames erupt from the pretty homes I remember
Everything I thought of as so much nicer than here,
Playing through my mind.
So much of it is only ash, and others haze.

I can see the houses that are fine,
The stores I was admiring from far away,
I know almost everyone is fine,
But I don’t want the Black Forest destroyed.

Please stop the violence upon the beauty,
So much joy within the tangle of the trees,
A place name now becomes ironic,
As the Black Forest turns from red to black.

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