Rent today, own tomorrow,
A world of excess and material sorrow,
One likely to accumulate, what we call best,
Another will depreciate at their own behest,
Peaks arise from man's own wallet,
Enslaving children in far away squalor,
To keep her entertained, we need not bother,
The mother earth in her glorious colour,
Defined by time in it's infinite heap,
We reap what we sew, and so we reap.

I've wondered why the skies were blue,
The clouds, they're gray and lacking hue,
The trees are frayed, their leaves turn true,
The rivers lay bare and spilling few,
This, they whisper the answers to:
They're missing you.