Four
So there it is – our number four,
For those around who keep a score;
And more there'll be, like days of plague –
We're in for times when spirits sag.They're not the first, it's hit before –
While two survived, two we adore
Stepped from their lives, sad way to go,
Beyond the help which doctors know.The world we've made's been at a cost
Of lives, and health; a time now lost
Where clean the water, fresh the air –
The cancers soar, with deep despair.Lord, Babel-gift you gave to us,
That allergy would make some fuss
To slow our quick, destructive ways,
So maybe we'd see longer days.But no, we're smart enough to be
In self-made mess which we now see,
Just like that chemist who said, “No–
I will not down that fool’s road go” –For she had tried to copper fix
So air pollutants, when they mix
Would not corrode the roofing tiles
Right here it worked, but not where miles –Away, in England's pleasant land,
The tiles could not pollution stand –
"Immoral that, to try again –
Clean up the air, free up the rain!”Lord, plague was one thing – sickness is
At times beyond our brightest whiz;
But, “Cancer can be beaten now”?
Much better, “Can be stopped” – somehow.navigation