The pale pastels of the lake

Freshened breath with no mistake

On the horizon a rusted thorn

On the Northwest tip is worn

My home state moves

No chance to hesitate

Offering big tax breaks

For the industrial rake

Tearing up the land

I have yet to ever understand

How we can destroy such beauty

Beauty of our land

The water and the sand

Taken for granted our homeland

I will look out to the lake and wonder

If there is a beauty of fresh water

Upon this earth so mild

It is both mother and child

We must honor the world so

Unless mistakenly

We let it go