Strewn across the walkway,
what might have been trees
in another place and time
are left cracked and split
as people walk by, uncaring,
still trampling over them.

Strewn across the field,
what might have been men
in another place and time
are left cold and dead
as society marches on, undeterred,
still reigning over them.


Hello to anyone who stumbles upon this. As I was thinking of some new poetic ideas, I started thinking about how I often see crushed acorns on the sidewalks of my college campus, and this poem sort of just came to me. I don't normally do free verse poetry, but I couldn't think of another form for this sort of idea, hopefully I brought my idea across well.
As always, comments and criticism are appreciated.