Twisted tree trunks lay
On the black ashen soils,
Burnt to the ground
As the arid air boils.

The tiny creatures
Scurry far away
Abandoning their homes
For a new place to stay.

Entering the land
Which humans populate.
Entering streets
They thought were desolate.

Instead polluting machines
Roll across the earth,
Scaring plants to
Wilt to the hearth.

Grey puffy tails
Searching for nuts.
Forced to learn
What roads not to trust.

Little wild rabbits
Dig a hole in the ground,
To be soon blockaded
By a filthy garbage mound.

The birds flutter
From the burning tree tops
Only to be choked
By the brightly lit shops

Human’s running around
Not caring what goes where.
Driving large cars and polluting the air.
All causing our ozone layer to tare.

Smog filled air,
And trash filled land.
Leading to a filthy death
Shouldn’t these actions be band?