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A poem about change - a rhyming poem. |
| Low and behold, a turn for the worse, Begging much ruin, a hell of a curse. Basking in riches that sinfully glow, This relative fever we mustn’t let grow. Marking the forecast, abating the facts, Seems clueless denial, if nobody acts. A natural envy has altered the scheme - Projecting in earnest, some nightmarish scream. So act based on merits, deliver a plan, To rescue the Earth, this timely, brief span. Desolate harm has occurred at these rates - The struggles are felt, for they’re ungodly straits. |