Around me in their stench they lie,
A thousand falsehoods left to rot and die.
In the vigor of their life they did so well
As in the ocean the waves do swell,
They were so high, then came down low
And we have damned their flow.
In the heat of the fire
They cry out from the mire;
The mess that they have created.
And we walk by with breath that is bated
Lest we smell of the stench that is theirs,
Or one should fool us into thinking he cares.
We have nearly overcome
Though the job is yet undone.
And in some places they still cause pain.
And we cry as it seems we struggle just to gain
A life that is hard for all
But especially for those that are small.