Have you ever lived
up in Mars?
Way above the stars?
Well, if you have, (I
haven’t)
You’d surely be a
wreck.
We’re planning on
building a town,
A place of renown,
Nothing will ever
crush it,
We’ve built it with
all our wit.
What to do ‘bout the
cold?
Our shoes are filling
with mold,
Our baseballs are
disappearing,
With no hope of
reappearing.
We’re running out of
air,
Mars, don’t you care!
We’ll be crushed any
minute, ( Hateful Moons!)
To the ground, we’ll
be pinned.
We have no water,
For our sons and
daughter,
Earth is almost
invisible,
We’ll leave our poem,
very miserable!
THE END.
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