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Dedicated to Digging for Truth, Blasting the Myths, and Etching Reality in Stone.

I moved into the greenbelt, a place of peace and charm,
I was followed by a gravel pit, they said there’d be no harm.

My neighbours fought a valiant fight to turn this pit away,
but the MNR gave a rubber stamp and so it’s here to stay.

So the pit is now my neighbour, it’s just outside my door,
I’ve made some changes in my life, some I do abhor.

I sit inside my kitchen, to look out through the screen.
Unfortunately it’s thick with dust and nothing can be seen.

The trucks are rolling past my house with noise and dust galore,
and brown is rising to the sky, there is no blue no more.

The noise is just horrific, I can barely hear my thoughts,
but that’s OK, it’s time for bed when it’s about to stop.

The grinding and the crushing doesn’t start ’til 7 am,
which is alright because it seems I’m wide awake by then.

My children all have asthma, and my wife she has the heaves;
they all moved to the in-laws when they said they had to leave.

My well was always very full, clean and cool and sweet,
but so’s the water from truck that delivers twice a week.

I’d like to try to sell my house and get right out of here
but there’s no value in my home, my retirement’s lost I fear.

But someday when the pit is done in 50 years or more,
there’ll be a lake and grass and trees and wildlife here galore.

So one day when I’m dead and gone, and far removed from harm,
I’ll be buried in the greenbelt, a place of peace and charm

                                                    photo credit: Ken Cressey

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