The last tree

The world is dead. Filled with unwanted smoke and the smell of gas. I walk up to my window and as I slowly open it, a colourless and careless world reveals itself. I smell exhaust fumes and a gust of silvery ash rises before me. I wearily trod down the stairs of my one bedroom apartment I share with my mum to take a stroll and reflect upon what this world is like now, “what have we done wrong?” I thought to myself as I watch negligent people wander the streets with their cigarettes and bin fires. I run home in spite and I rapidly go to my room to start something great. I open my google doc and start writing a poem that could change the world. As I am writing my poem I see a construction site digging up a park to build more apartments. In a flash I sprint down the road to save what we didn’t before. We haven't realised the effect we have made in our world by doing careless things like this. I chain myself to the last tree as it stands there dolefully. People finally take notice and join me. Soon I have a community standing with me, ready to face the challenging truth and fix what we started with one simple tree.