Climate Change
A single drop of rain,
Would quench the thirst,
Of this barren land,
Where aids sent first.
Past destroys the future,
Convicting present people,
To a life of fixing,
Ignoring church steeple.
Unlike those from past,
Religion becomes words.
No meaning for most.
Scarcely ever heard.
Yet one does wonder,
As clouds pass overhead,
The past becomes the living,
The living becomes the dead.
The temperatures rise,
Everyone is to blame.
People deny it,
Push their involvement out of frame.
There's always a minority,
And they stand tall,
Making changes to their lives,
And it helps although small.
But majority overrule,
And they remain blind to see.
That their present actions now,
Will later affect you and me.
