Tank tops swelter in blazing week;
Your sweater's no needed in days of bleak;
Keep your eyes in clamoring massed street--
They are now fully awake
from codology of vexing class of slick.

Cozy moments knocked by shrieking wind;
Your senses were trying not to bend;
News flaunting children's silence--
the hush of how to bear the burden
caused by aided industry of burnin'

Greenland's melting billion tons;
Penguins should learn to construct home:
Thermal's pushing seas to rise all zone--
Not what Andra Day want in her song;
'Cause what feet want a wet foam?

Twenty-thirty to shed billion tons of gas;
Polar bears should dive to surpass;
Here comes the experts spitting musts--
Schemes to avert reckoning blast,
but why are we leading nowhere fast?
© AphroVen