What if the trees wanted to stand tall and upright, mostly colourful
Showing off their muscles and selflessly sharing shade and oxygen
What if they never fancied feeling the pain and torture
Of becoming pulp and fuel and exotically carved furniture
Sacrificing their deep-routed bonds with the earth


What if the earth preferred being flowing landscapes, mostly admired
Spending its days basking in the sunlight and soaking up the rain
What if it never expected to be brutally dissected and
Constructed into brilliantly engineered concrete jungles
Losing its fertile pride to ambitious creatures


What if the sea dreamt of being a palatial abode, mostly charming
To the wealth of inexplicably beautiful species it was home to
What if it never imagined the trauma of being a secret hideout
For the disposal and storage of gross human atrocities
At the cost of the very species it once fostered