At birth, Earth is nurtured

Beautiful and filled of morning dews

As years passed through

Earth became painted without a hue

Hidden is a pastel that can’t be true

To move, this might be the cue.

The journey is continued

Tears bubbled and flew

Wishing the time is glued

When Earth is more than a stew

Time to step into the tome

Obviously worried more than scared

To ask the pope to pray in Rome

Just to make sure Earth will be healed and cared

On the verge of death, Earth is tortured

And doubtful of human views