In the ozone layer, a big hole;
the little sparrows' lives we stole.
We play with water,
while some die without it.

Using plastic doesn't matter,
until you mix them in the soil like batter,
until your kids struggle to breathe.
You realize guarding nature isn't a myth.

Rain becomes a mixture of cancer,
not only water but acids of death.
A large tree we cut and write,
lack of oxygen, we run in fright,
assuming the world at our fingertips,
not knowing we are just dust
in this vast universe.
Greedily, we think of the multiverse,
afraid, our life we search, doctor and nurse,
everything will happen according to the author's verse.

© therosewriter67