Trashed, smashed in pieces

listen to a fork on the road,

a dork on the road

a log, was part of a stump,

cut in pieces, left as a rump

million bottles of plastic, rubber dump

thousand refuse sites, garbage jumps

more and more,

more landfill, more to store

future generations,

your future so sore, let’s ignore

this subject so bore,

talk about beauty and glamour

parties and clamour,

for each new product, to throw the old

where, which way, on street,

in what fold, more and more sold

and we are just told,

it is going to be fine,

here is some wine,

I recommend a beautiful place to dine,

they only serve fresh,

any food what is left,

will be not be kept,

goes to a trash

ironic, isn’t it, hash and rehash,

all stories, still they end up in a stash

pilling up, one by one, filing up,

apparently the only reusable

place on this terrain, humble brain

Perhaps one day that become disposable,

human dose-able, with daily intelligence,

throw away your useless thoughts,

apparently they are not polluting,

ignoring what is best,

for next generation and the rest,

we, the self proclaimed lords of this universe,

miserably failing that test,

left in the mouth ignoble taste

Nothing can be undone in haste,

takes time to change behaviours,

million thousands saviours

are required before even first green shoot comes out,

Earth smiles again, the mother who has lost all her

conscientious daughters, valiant sons,

to unnecessary violence and million guns,

can see the revolution, and final resolution to all ills,

annihilation still, being too late, tempting fate’s ironic hand