The Dying Earth

The sun shone down on the morning’s dew
The birds could be heard in the sky as they flew
The smell of the freshness hung in the air
The small little flies just seemed everywhere
But even the beautiful sights of that day
They could not last; they soon went away
It is our job to bring all this back
To not let the beauties of the world lack
The place that I’m talking about is our Earth
It’s time to find out what good times are worth.