CO2 needs to be managed by me and you. Even if we stand, just a few.
I pledge to you, something to do.
So, in 50 years we won't end up in doom.
But first let me explain when I'm about to. This poem isn't the best and neither is my idea. But I'll give you a clue...

it's surrounded by blue.
Not the sky
not the clouds.
But the light in the sky.
We don't have to fly
to switch out the sun that's so high.
So let's get on our ladders
just one at a time
and switch to fluorescent bulbs.
You do your's and I'll do mine.