|The Web Poetry Corner is a Dream Machine Site|
The Dream Machine --- The Imagination of the World Wide Web
Just think of you, sick with the flu, stuck inside your bed,
Your nose will soon stop running, there'll be no pain in your head
But mother Earth is sicker and I think you ought to know,
She'll have to wait a million years before her pain can go.
So start today and find a way to try and stop Earth's sickness
Look up there into the air and try to stop the thickness
Of smoke and fog, the ozone bog, or otherwise quite soon,
We'll have to try and find a way of living on the moon.