The Sad Field
I gaze upon the open field
but to my demise
It's littered with trash, it's fate is sealed
it's horror to my eyes
a cry of anguish escapes from me
the trash duitfully thrown around
It's unbearable to see
I pick up a greasy bag I found
It makes not a dent in all the trash
and how can the one that put it there
be so horribly rash
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