Pictural of Sound Barriers along a Highway

{{#ifeq: | | {{#ifeq: Justin S. (Whiteflame) | |

   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | || 
     Author: Whiteflame  
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   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | |
     Author: Justin S. (Whiteflame) |
     Author: Justin S. (Whiteflame)  
   }}
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 {{#ifeq: Justin S. (Whiteflame) | |
   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | | Authors: ' | 
     Authors: Whiteflame 
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   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | |
     Authors: Justin S. (Whiteflame) |
     Author: Justin S. (Whiteflame) 
   }}
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}} {{#if:| — see also [[:Category:{{{category}}}|other works by this author]]}}

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<poem> I look at the fallen trees along The highway, Who have been cleared out For some faceless concrete walls, More walls, to keep the stupid wanderers Like me from being hit by Blind drivers and deaf SUVs, Deafened by their own conversations With the wall on the ground, which Keeps my toes from feeling the soil. –Walls to keep the loud chatter of Engines from interrupting the loud Chatter of humans. They don’t even wish to hear their own monster As he grumbles incoherently. How they stare blindly or look away as he occasionally Commits a murder.

And as I look upon that wall, I think to myself: In my lifetime, all the trees will be gone, And the wild horses too, Dead or walking dead, and broken, And all of the beautiful planes in The west, my home in my heart, Which I have ventured so far from in my wanderings And lost, Will be paved over with walls, Factories, power cables, wind farms, solar panels, and waste disposal plants. Everything that I love will die. </poem>

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