Poetry- The Sunflower Field

The nights have passed
The days have arrived

We could see ourselves melting into this space in black and brown
with our drooping heads down

Until the buzzing machines walked, stamped, and razed us.
Cut away. Carried away. Splitted. Trampled and transported.

Sustainability, Eco-friendly stickers glazed at us in our colours- Yellow and brown

The nights have passed
The Days have arrived

We're moved.

The field is empty without us
Or
Is it?

The Nights have passed
The Days have arrived

We're there
Not there
In this world.