Poetry & Art

Life on Mars

The red of the rust

The brown of what used to be trees

Remember when we all had air to breathe?


This dreadful planet

All dry and dead

No one listened, so we cry instead.


Hopeless and forlorn

Now is when they want to mourn?

It’s frustrating and worn


We’ve heard it all before

Our present is here

All broken and torn


We resort to the red planet

The dead planet, no more.

We brought it life


Until we guild it

Exploit it and use it

Then toss it and kill it


What of repercussions?

What of consequence?

We keep moving and moving


Yet no one repents.

And so here we stand

The newest generation in hand


Simply hollow and sad

For they could never understand

The gravity of all we had.


Filtered air tubes and domes

This is what we consist of

That is what makes this home.


Remember the old norms?

The blue of the sky

The green of the grass


Now all we have

Is burnt oranges

And toxic gas.


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