The first moment I wrote
I took fate by the throat

Five Zero Two Bad Gateway
Grew into a daily incidence
A bad fate for poet, anyway
A call for an urgent diligence

It is too crowded
To live humanely
Troubles sprouted
From that mainly

I am but yet to be
I am the process
Straight or shady
All’s at my expense

Unless you do it
With inner flame
Crop of pursuit
Will be but, lame

Wise enough to keep their hive
For years multiplied by millions
Dinosaurs managed to survive
Without any troubles. Brilliant!

Via technological, industrial
And as well idiotic nose-dive
In several hundred millennials
We hit the finish line of our drive

A tatty, worn-out hose
And a teeny-tiny garden
Will take off, I suppose
Most the world’s burden