deepundergroundpoetry.com
Humans
How many trees will you cut down
before you burn this planet to the ground?
How many fields will you upturn,
with roads ready for you to return?
My God, my Lord, it stinks of you,
oh damn, what hot, bleak residue!
You know, know what you do,
you'll bleed this Earth blue.
before you burn this planet to the ground?
How many fields will you upturn,
with roads ready for you to return?
My God, my Lord, it stinks of you,
oh damn, what hot, bleak residue!
You know, know what you do,
you'll bleed this Earth blue.
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