Global Warning

Can you see the signs?
Can you read between the lines?
The world is hurting, don't you know?
But all you can think about, is grow.

Every child is heaven blessed,
and joyously joins all the rest,
making us seven billion strong,
adding to our mighty throng.

For growth is our only desire,
growing economies fuel the fire.
Jobs for all are heaven sent,
so we can continue to pay the rent.

There is no end to what we can do,
if only everyone would serve the few,
there are no limits to our earth,
we just have to tighten our girth.

And let the freedom of the market play,
so everyone will have a wonderful day.
Because the captains in control,
will make it happen without the dole.

They'll make it happen for all to see,
until they've cut the last old-growth tree,
caught the last fish in the sea,
and filled it with their castoff debris.

For their wealth blinds them to,
all the harm that they do.
Isolated in their ivory tower,
more ivory is lost every hour.

As the poor scratch out a meager existence,
and degrade their nest for mere subsistence.
And beautiful places are being destroyed,
the habitat for all other creatures denied.

Are we people of the earth?
Or are we just to tighten our girth?
And let the captains choose our fate?
Is it already, too late?

Reaching the Tipping Point

At the Tipping Point?


More Poems

My Place

Copyright 2012 © Ronald W. Hull


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