I face the wind.
Each day I wait.
I wait for the world to change.
People come and go.
I hear sounds of trees falling
and cries of animals dying.
The rolling hills are replaced by buildings,
monstrous symbols to mankind.
Fewer trees dot the naked landscape.
Dirty water fills the lakes and ocean.
Mankind has changed the world
in irreversible ways.
Stop before it’s too late.
I refuse to be the last tree standing.