Progress's Hunt

In San Francisco’s bustling streets,

A majestic ficus tree once stood,

Its verdant branches swayed with ease,

A natural haven in the neighborhood.

But progress had its greedy eyes, 

And the tree’s fate was soon sealed,

Chainsaws rang out with no disguise,

As the mighty ficus tree was revealed.

Now, my neighbor’s life is on full display,

Their every move within my sight,

From their TV shows to meals each day,

Even private moments in the night.

Oh, San Francisco, what have you done,

To chop down such a natural wonder,

For the sake of property and added safety,

You’ve left us all to ponder.

Perhaps one day we’ll learn to see,

The beauty in what’s right in front,

And let nature grow, wild and free,

Instead of chasing progress’s hunt.