GROWTH
by John T. Baker
When I was young this world of ours was vast;
Fresh rivers flowed through verdant fields far-flung;
The skies were clear, not sadly overcast,
The world was huge and bright when I was young.

As years went by, the cosmos seemed to shrink,
Demand increased and soon outstripped supply,
The air grew foul, the streams began to stink;
The world became minute as years went by.

Now I am old the world is drab and small,
The land is cramped, the climate dark and cold,
The once-green pastures black with urban sprawl;
The world is small and drab now I am old.

How grim to witness as our world becomes
A never-ending neighborhood of slums.