A dump filled wasteland,
Where nothing could grow,
Polluted and desolate,
I should know.
Swarms of flies,
Surrounding all that's dead,
Mold and mildew,
Populations fled.
A concrete jungle,
So barren, so bare.
Seeing the sun is a sight so rare.
As smoke and ash fills the air.
Abandoned buildings,
Crumbling to the floor,
The cherished skyscrapers,
Couldn't scrap the skies anymore.
But in the midst of it all,
There was a literal ray of hope,
A single beam of sunlight protruding through the smoke.
What are the chances?
What are the odds?
"Don't get your hopes up, nothing can ever sprout from the fogs!!"
But like a heavy burden lifted from my back,
Sprouted a little honey locust tree from a simple little crack.
Despite the traction and everything surrounding it that was dead,
The little honey locust tree stretched towards the sun regardless of what the garbages had said.
Days turned to weeks,
Weeks turned to months.
Now it has been years and it's still surviving with the skunks.
Born from a crack,
In a place where everything is dead,
A single beam of light,
From the darkness it lead.
Now it's a massive tree growing in the "barren" land.
Percolating deep for water, when everyone told him it would be nothing but sand.
The tree doomed for death,
Now breathes life into this barren place.
Bringing forth renewal, increasing the flora and faunas trace.
It started with some little blades of grass and a few bees,
Soon we could see shrubs and a beautiful ravine,
Everything wasn't beautiful but the air was almost clean.

~ Tremar Ivey~