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As Time Goes By

Through the woods and over the hills,
The fox, the fox he goes,
Frolicking in the flowers,
The grass between his toes,

The fragrant smell of pine trees,
The wafting rose perfumes,
Fill the fox with happiness,
As he goes through the flower blooms,

Ten long years later,
We meet the fox again,
But the surroundings differ,
As the fox leaves his den,

Through the village and over the hills,
The fox, the fox he goes,
Frolicking through the gardens,
The stones between his toes,

The fragrant smell of baking,
The wafting cooking fumes,
Fill our fox with hunger,
As he listens to the bard's tunes,

Another ten years later,
We meet the fox once more,
And again the surroundings differ,
As the fox leaves through his door,

Through the buildings and over the roads,
The fox, the fox he goes,
Dodging through the traffic,
The tarmac beneath his nose,

The toxic smell of factories,
The air tainted with gloom,
Fill the fox with loneliness,
As he stumbles through the fumes,

Then the fox thinks back to his friends,
Who now are surely dead,
Whilst the fox is surrounded by a city,

That fills him up with dread . . .

by Aron Finkelstein (0)
Watford Grammar School For Boys, Hertfordshire


Competition - Poetopia

Copyright remains with the author.