You take up space & have a mass.
Matter made of various molecules & atoms
You are stardust
A result of massive explosions in galaxies
Are you completely gone?
According to the conservation of energy
which states that energy cannot be created or destroyed
but can be altered from one form to another
you’re a little bit less orderly
According to decomposition
a proccess where organic substances are broken down
into much simpler forms of matter
you have been recycled by invertebrates, fungi & bacteria
to help continue the circle of life.
It is impossible to know simultaneously
the exact position & velocity of your particles
And so you can’t be put you back together
But you’re back where you belong
Forever consistent in space and time
Back in the atmosphere

There are nights just like tonight were i can't  read, or draw, or sleep, or even breath. I cant do anything and i feel like I'm going to die. I try to do  anything to go to sleep but it's no use because  i physically cant do it. But then on those nights without fault there well be bright stars, cool air, and this amazing feeling of openness.
Once when i couldn't take that feeling anymore i looked out the window and saw the front yard.; the street lights were reflecting  the wet lawn. I walked out and you asked me why, i told you because  its beautiful, and you didn't understand  so you followed me out and as i layed down in the street you asked me what was so beautiful because  again you didn't understand and i told you that it was the dizzy feeling you get when you stare at endlessnes. But you didn't hear me because  you were telling me to get to bed. When i got up i saw you looking at the ground while walking back. Kicking a rock.
Maybe in a world with so much saddness it it better not to ask questions,
Maybe it is better not to look up.

People often speak
Of mankind and nature
As two separate things

But the way I see it
We are not opposites
But rather complimentary colors in the wheel

People often talk of natural beauty
Or man-made art
But I find it more beautiful
When the two mix

picture this:
The sun is rising over a marsh
Against the vibrant hues lies the silhouette
Of a shuttle on the launch pad
Sleek, modern, impressive
But yet, not intrusive
Rather, complimentary in its juxtaposition
And its coexistence

People act as though wilderness and civilization
Can't coexist, as if they are at war
I'm fact, we both need each othe
And through our shared past and planet
We are one and the same

Should we all stop eating meat?
No, we’ll starve of protein doing that.
But yes, it’s morally right.

What about plants?
We’ll starve: fruits and berries are all right.
Eat meat instead!

Are we doing enough to avoid nuclear war?
Not enough, we are doomed.
Too much: the next level is with nuclear-holocaust-mutations!

And global warming?
Our greatest threat.
A hoax!

What should we do?
Just what is Good?
****** if we do and ****** if we don’t.

Should we be pacifists or should we fight?
Anyone Out There to put us right?
If there are,
Their lips are kept tight.
Even God, with all of His might.
One Man’s Good is another Man’s Evil,
From a great blue whale to a little Boll Weevil.
For now We stay on a lifelong quest,
Seeking out what might be the best.

Paul Butters

They **** the Earth
And take
Its Riches
Killing Mother Nature’s things.

Corporate corruption crushes
The common people
As Euro Bureaucrats
******* the Nation-State.

Religious Fanatics,
Who shall be nameless
Seek to impose their Laws
On every Land.

Beheading anyone who differs,
They let their brainwashed suicide bombers
Wreak havoc
All across the world.

We know they’re wrong
And know we’re Right.
But what can we do?
It’s time to fight.

This world is mad.
All craziness goes on.
Another breaking-news.
Wot?

Paul Butters

Her protesting moans
Rumble over the land
And her throes of resistance
Shoot lightning through the sky
And we cover our ears.
Her tantrums throw hurricanes
At our cities
And rattle the ground
Beneath our feet
In an effort to shake herself free
And we persist.
We can put a hand to her forehead
And feel her growing hot,
Hotter than ever,
Feel that our innovation is an ailment
And we can see her dying
And yet we cough in her face.
We tell her that we will
Leave her someday,
That there are others like her
Out there
And she is not precious.
We tell her how we yearn to escape
Her paradise.
We tell her that we've grown jaded
To her embrace.
And she weeps.
She knows we will not cure her
Because we do not care.
And harder
She weeps.

I feel like the white lion
stuck in a cage for the rest of my days
feet set to tread a path barred and dusty
from all of those who trod before it.

The only excitement, the jangles of
keys from the keeper who runs to
throw carcass of rabbit, turkeys
through my bars for me
to render sustenance, incomplete.

I fear the white lion
hear my lonely roar and wonder
at such talons, canines now stolen
and feet dismembered, claws ripped
from their shackles, top-of-the-food-chain
fear desecrated.

And a genetic time-bomb too
ticks under my skin and theirs
as I sit and I listen to the lies
your children now share.

My line also ends, a mere stutter
in the sand, as the tides flow steady
and the last lion lingers.

And I am, too, held high like a beacon,
a warning, a message spanning
centuries, look, children, look!
See the mistakes of your ancestors.

See how her coat shines so very bright
that it reflects all seven colours
of the light? See how lonely and low
the last of a manipulated, mistaken,
misconstrued species can go?

She was drawn from her mother
mixed with her father, no she doesn't need him
and the others, why yes, all left
are her kin!

How wonderful, how quaint, you
know only ten now remain?
None in the wild of course, where
their life cannot sustain,
better here locked under our
constraints where we have
so much wonder, so much recreation
and education to gain.

And true, from this bleak place
they can never migrate
but look at her, no where else to go
this man-made mistake.

Don’t worry about the pacing,
the maddened, gleaming eye
the freedom they miss
out there? They would die!
And they know no other way
than this.

I know she looks sad, but
that’s just your feelings projecting,
they’re just animals, my darling,
you’re innocent, shouting in consternation
save her in the name of conservation!

But we are all white lions
all now endangered, our steps
are no freer, our lives all
subject to external changes and we
cannot move but for the cage
they have constructed, their
lives are impacted but our
wonder is not deducted.

I feel like the white lion
this ambassador of our greatness
this one mistake, so very clever,
engineered to engage us, these lives that
were wrought solely to entertain us.

I feel it, their future entwined in mine
and in humans across the ages.

Meaning of life designed, its sibilant message
dangerous, a dumb animal wandering
a set path, disregarded, destructive, aimless.