He hated roads. He loved the land.
He tended to forget
Or else he didn’t understand
That roads were how we met.
He loved long walks. He hated cars.
He often put them down.
Without them, though, I’d have reached Mars
Before I reached his town.
Now that I’ve seen bad air pervade
An atmosphere once sweet
I wish the car was never made
That drove me to his street.
Now that I’ve felt a world explode
As I had not before
I wish they’d never built the road
That led me to his door.
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