we stopped leaving breadcrumbs to find our way home and started paving roads insteadMature

We are not kind. We are not gentle. We are not careful.
We leave craters where we tread and skeletons in our wake.
There is nothing soft about us, nothing quiet, nor cautious.
We burn the trees for the sake of one cold night, unthinking
of the years a smaller creature had made it a home.
We make messes we don’t know how to clean up 
and wonder how it all got so ragged and pot-marked and cluttered.

The End

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