You wouldn't write a song and not ask a voice to share.
A balloon's a useless thing if you don't fill it with air.
We wouldn't make a hammer for a nail not to be hit
And who would craft a chair, then allow no one to sit
in it.
The crafting of this Earth followed logic of the same
With all conditions set just right for life to stake its claim
The other planets not designed or destined for this use
Then how could we, the most evolved, bombarded it with obtuse
abuse.
We use up its resources at a rate it can't sustain.
Its spells its sad prognosis but too slowly we refrain.
We watch the species dwindle, as we hog the crafted chair.
And our tone deaf ears k** nature's song with notes that simply are
not there.
Nature filled balloons with breathe of life that we pollute.
It almost seems at self destruction, we are resolute.
But worldly goods won't be redundant if we run our course.
Hammer will nail the coffin shut, too late to act on
our remorse.