A world of tired climate and primates.
A cosmic and comical arrangement of chaos,
but in all of it,
the ecosytem don't seem to be in good terms.
Everyone everywhere is tired.
There was never a one who had inquired of nature if some days they too are tired,
the stars of being counted for astrological fun,
without any federal funding allocated to the advancement of their community,
or the oceans if they're tired of meeting their neigbors dirty and crusty summer feet,
or their waves tired of bringing the sands for their castles,
the trees of the heavy exertions of a growing industrialization on their society,
or perhaps the nightingale of their harsh musical pitch and somber lyrical reflections, or the life of the air,
of the relentless choking by the agency of their addiction and cigarettes, of their profits and factories
Again, everyone is tired,
and just like us primates, the climate is equally stressed.
However, you will never see the writing on their beautiful faces.
The cloud could careless about global warming,
whether or not man join their hands on deck,
there will never be enough reason for the dawn of bad day.
Or for a good day to lose its focus, or one of its offspring of seconds.
Men who supposedly have it together,
have gotten weary of carrying their lame and paralytic,
they need learn of their ecosystem.
Being tired is not a cue to stop,
but a sign to take rest.
Until then, when the weak can boldly say I am strong,
and the blind happily report their sight,
there will always be weakness,
but you too need remain the strength.
There will always be darkness,
but you too needs stay the light.