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.
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 [...]