Restoration

She told us,
One day it’ll be a disaster.
I’d conformed to the majority,
I didn’t believe her.

Everyone took advantage,
Mocked her ways and laughed –
– “It’s not like anything would happen!”,
But she was the master of her craft.

Every day she was growing fast,
But no one noticed her speed.
She’d given out second chances,
But everyone was still moving at ease.

She had a mole on her tongue,
Rumour has it, her words are truth.
As sharp as a rose thorn,
Mother Earth is resorting her youth.