How would you help?

I lift my window expecting to feel cool air,
My eyes widen in horror at the view of smoke clouds,
Life is always in the worst ways unfair—
I just thought I’d look at the world and feel proud

As I put on my shoes and take a deep breath—
My nostrils are filled with the scent of pure death,
The atmosphere was fresh and oh so clean…
Presently the grass is not such a pretty green

All this pollution is dangerous—
And the amount of threat will injure us—
Death on earth is the number one purpose—
And while the government provides the same service—

Pollution is not the solution—
And trees like broken souls will be the resolution—
Though with all the fossil infusion—
Will bring to a counterrevolution…

The day ends treading carefully over plastic.
All this rubbish is drastic.
When will the monstrosity conclude?
Soon fate will tell us, “We’re screwed”