Their profits still boom while prophets of doom are labelled as merely misguided. Big Oil wants us cross; they don’t give a toss – we’re easier led when divided.
If only humans’ sense of worth Came less from gold, and more from earth.
I don’t like it
It's possible every thing that we do
That isn't addressing this burning issue
Is utterly pointless, a total waste,
Hurtling end-ward with ever more haste.
This is a poem that no-one could love.
It is what it is. And push came to shove.
There’s worlds of truth in Dr Seuss: It’s utterly true that today you are you And no-one on Earth can be you-er than you. I love these words, and all they say About our unique DNA But lose the value of this prize When buried under layers of lies Of clan and country, tribe and [...]