The New World

One day I sat and wondered

What happened to the clouds that thundered?

Where are the trees that swished and swayed?

And keeping everyone happy and gay.

The meadows where we played

Are now fancy malls

Small villages and huts

Are now air-conditioned halls.

The apple trees we climbed

Where have they gone?

The old traditional clothes

Now ragged and torn.

The items all nice and old

Are now either broken and sold 

It all seems good

It all seems true

But there is something amiss

In this world all new.