Sawdust, by Amory McKeever

(image courtesy of Aida Makoto)

Cut down in our prime
split in twain
discarded like pain
to make something fine

So here we are
in mountainous piles
you can see for miles
carcasses of poplar

A graveyard of timber
the scraps off a table
the skeleton of a maple
going out with a whimper

Plea mercy from the saws
no justice no peace
to know we've been fleeced
we can hear the applause

They took what they could
to craft what they want
like idiot savants
but we're more than just wood

We're living things just like them
they bloom from our work
we're the sun through the murk
there's no flower without a stem

And gathered in their rooms
among adorned furniture
they spared no expenditure
to ignore our doom

To forget they were us
that the shine of their polish
is because we're demolished
they shall never discuss

They are merely what's left
when you shave away the damned
the poor and the scammed
their value is a theft

So here we lie
in mountainous piles
you can see for miles
the tree of life left to die