As mankind does another tribal dance

in hope of something turning in the weather,

I wonder if the Earth still has a chance?

Its people cannot seem to work together.

It seems the voice of reason is too meek,

and never heard above the cry for money,

a prophet needs to stand up tall and speak,

destroy the myth of ageless milk and honey.

The lessons learned are falling with the trees

and swept out with the sawdust we should cherish,

no thought of what we pour into the seas,

or how a future world will starve and perish.

I wish some companies would see the sky

the color blue to symbol Earthly sorrow,

but wanting to be happy, not to die,

the answer will be written in tomorrow.

 More of my Environment Poems HERE