in

Uncontrolled thermostatic antics.

“Natural or man made, it will not be denied.

Factual won’t masquerade but, still defiance is way wide.

I’l dare to share rhyme of the time we’re all fried,

none will care who, why or where, when how many seared hair and hide.

 

I swear it’s the blade. You say “it’s the cut”.

I declare I’m afraid and you just victory strut.

This charade that we’ve played wastes the time we’ve left but,

my tirade of tries not made conveyed the nuts of minds so shut.

 

When air gets so tight, we can’t breathe with ease

and glare of sunlight commands increasing degrees,

when beach sands all scatter ‘neath the tides of cruel seas

that’ll teach us to band together, in Worldwide tries to save our species.”

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Written by Beada Beada

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