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Showing posts from October, 2014

Poem of the Week

When I am 75-Poem
Natural disasters are common, In this land of mine. This is what will become when I am seventy-five. Flooding and rising, Has led to the destruction of lowlands and islands. The ice caps have melted, and this is out of our hands. Oceans span most of the globe, Deep down beyond the blue, Lies a wasteland, this is true. No Amazon, to soothe our smoky lungs, They have dried out, No clean air, not enough to shout. Of grass and flowers, In their places deserts have grown, And cities remain deserted, the birds have flown. Flee your country, from the devastation, In the last few lands, civilization breaks, A time of fear is upon us, make no mistake. The life of five degrees, is as horrible as we make it, Just one degree and,
The end of life as we know it.

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When I am 75

The future is mysterious. It can be as dark or a bright as you wish it to be. This future however, is not as bright as you think. Sixty-three years ago, six decades and three years ago, researchers sounded the alarm. It was time to start turning over a new leaf, to combat the impacts of global warming. Some listened. Others didn’t. Such a small thing global warming was back then. So far away the causes seemed. Then, the global temperature went up a degree. That changed things, now everybody was aware of global warming, and knew that it was taking its toll. Deserts across Texas, floods everywhere and ice caps melting, everyone was clamoring for a solution. None came. Now, sixty-three years later, we look back and laugh at ourselves scrambling around for a solution. Sixty-three years later, the overall global temperature has gone up four degrees. Now, as I am writing this, I think back on how glorious the world seemed sixty-three years ago. Sixty-three years ago, the world seemed like…