Vishal Dutia

The land lies empty, waiting
For what it will become,
A home, a business, a park,
Or perhaps just nothing at all.

The grass grows wild and free,
Untamed by human hands,
The trees stand tall and proud,
Untouched by progress.

The wind blows through the leaves,
Singing a song of hope,
The sun shines down on the earth,
Blessing it with its warmth.

The vacant land waits patiently,
Knowing that its time will come,
When it will be filled with life,
And make a difference in the world.

© VishalDutia