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Technology MAG
Then
I sat on the chair
looked at the trees
when the wind blew
against the leaves
the chartreuse and gold leaves danced
all over the sky
the deep navy lake was in front of me
the pearl mother swan and her three snow babies
I felt the warm spring wind touch my face
I smelled the soft flowers against my senses
I heard the songs of the cardinal birds on the trees.
Now
I sit on the chair
looking at factories
when the wind blows
against the buildings
the dangerous steel clouds moving
all over the sky
the ashen walnut dry lake is in front of me
the three muddy swans are dead
I feel the smoking clouds touch my face
I smell the gases against my senses
I heard the cars rushing on the streets
They call it "Technology."
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