When I was six,

We built little boats out of a lot of sticks.

When I was nine,

Up the road, they built a wood mine.

When I turned eleven,

All trees in our park had gone to heaven.

Then I turned sixteen,

The world had become less than pristine.

As the sweet kid on the block,

We still consumed so much livestock.

A naïve teenager, unaware of the ticking clock.

Eventually I turned ninety-one,

Many humans and animals had since been gone.

I sit alone and reminisce of time when cities had shone

One thing I wish I knew at the age of three

Was to remind every human to save a tree.

For your family and for me.

Now, at my age of ninety three, it is plain to see,

The global consumption does not end well for thee.

Inevitably, change will come to be

What are we willing to give up to be carbon-free?