Soul Solicitor..
Forbidden is the fruit, but able to choose.
Extinguish the truth, distinguish the doom.
Exiled from the womb, mother earth our tomb.
Running out of room, soon there will be no food.
All is out of bounds but not out of sight.
Pretty soon they’ll confiscate the sky.
We’re so occupied who would mind?
Author.. Poet…..Jeff Wilson….
l3gaci.com 