The myth of climate

There is something foul in the surrounding air,

But we are so use to pollution that we do not care.

A few protested but they did little but raise a noise,

Just regulated to sign carrying protesters, out of touch girls and boys.


Smog so deep and penetrating poison choking our lungs,

Leaving a taste of acid on our skin and even eliminating the taste from our tongues.

Nothing at first but years of irritation will take its toll,

Lung diseases will prevail and corpses in the streets will roll.


Acid rain will fall and the statutes will melt,

A swatch of devastation crossing the country, a black belt.

The belt will grow and some states will be void of people,

The church bells will not ring from the empty church steeple.


Barren land, stretches of empty vegetation will be on the minds of all,

Trees with no leaves will rot and make crashes into the ground as they fall.

The outside of buildings will be black with mold,

Property values will plummet as the land values fold.



Congress will act and invoke emergency clauses,

But the allocation of money will be interrupted as the representatives invoke pauses.

Who will pay for the bulk of the devastation?,

Hems and haws as there was a Congress of hesitation.


To late to reverse the effects without a mass influx of money,

A whole section of the United States empty, and this is not funny.

Yet, Climate change is a myth and the empty heads argued in vain,

The truth staring them in the face and yet all know they are insane.



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