Barren Land by Marina Simms

Read by Conner Arnold

I am
Empty
Hollow
Nothing

I am barren land.

Dried from plenty
A past of fruitful harvests
Later, to be discharged
After so much has been
Nurtured

I am barren land
From poisoned soil
Dead on arrival
No seed can be planted
No roots can dig deep
There is no nutrients here
In my bones
Nothing that I touch
Or that touches me
Can flourish

No matter what I do
It takes one mistake
One piece of rot
And my crops wilt
Festering oozes
on Fresh Produce

I am barren land
Not even the dead can feed
Off my grey soil