The Hum

Wood roots tangle, mangled trees like rotting flesh from every angle,

Cries and shrieks from those who can’t speak, creaking branches under the bleak,

Weight of The Chair, remember O’hair? The smog, the death, it was never fair!

Metal chains on open plains, the smoking sky of which engrains

A song, a single symphony, which screams out about this epiphany,

Listen to me! If not for us for them to be free, for your family, for their family,

Don’t let this choice become their reality! Plastic. Drastic measures must be taken, tactics, to fight this disease. Matchsticks, don’t be one on this fire,

For it will suck the oxygen from our lungs. These times are dire.

I beg you. Fight for this! Or our oceans will swallow us whole.

Die on your feet! Because no matter what, you will,

But you get to choose those final moments. When your memories flash, what will you see?

Ash? Decay? Or scenery. The sunrise, the Autumn leaves?

Or the hum of our machinery?