Forests burn in ashen skies
Atmosphere of putrid lies,
Fat Cats write their cheques of gold
Another thousand hectares sold.
Forest fall for short term gain
**** tomorrow's children's pain.
**** the leaden poisoned air
Here and now is all they care,
High grade autos, classy chicks
Snort white powder, cash for kicks.....
Use it all at headlong speed
**** tomorrow...Let it bleed!

Off the Serpent's head I say
Abruptly end the Fat Cheques day.
End the **** of forest green
End the poisoned air obscene.
We owe it to tomorrow's sky,
We fix the problem...or we die.

M.
6 APRIL 2014

And.........
You know the tragedy at hand?
It's that no one here will make a stand;
We'll shake our heads and turn away
And pray that sanity will play.

The Dogs will ride roughshod and bold
Until established stranglehold
To throttle those who dare to caw,
Intimidate with threat and claw.

I've seen it all, I'm sick to say,
The Bulldozers shall have their way.
The Powerful, who write the cheque,
Stack all the cards and rig the deck!
M.