A Jungle Sighs, A People Dies...

The jungle sighs natives feel it’s pain,
those men who cut are back again.
They steal trees, sell them cheap,
our politicians bark not worth a peep.

Money made by heartless souls,
who deliver much by way of goals.
To fill large pockets of greed, lust
destroying an immerging tribal trust.

How do you trust these men of lies,
who can cut and destroy a beautiful tree.
They stand watching as a culture dies,
then laugh as all the other animals flee.

These same men who drill for oil,
raping our earth to salve their greed.
Not content with what we get from soil,
destroying others lives with little heed.

They say it’s progress we know it’s not,
sending rockets to Mars at a horrible cost.
Why not be happy with the earth we’ve got,
please we’ve got to stop before all is lost.

Mars the only planet left as man counts
the minutes left in his tanks. We should
have left the money, brought more air,
what good is money here, there are no
banks.