Compassion of stars,
a lament,
Please; not from me.
There we were, playful in our ignorance,
anti-matter, swishing merrily around.
A bit of catch-can, a little jostling for pole position…
A mass of happy innocents;
rudely torn apart, pounded to bits;
by the biggest Bang,
ever.
We crashed around,
flung together, pulled away.
Eons of recovery; till it was too late,
too late to be what we were.
Changed, we became stars; planets;
constellations; gas clouds; and loneliness;
propelled into empty space,
away from each other.
But you got it all, puny, tiny planet.
You got a neat little system;
minor sun to keep you warm;
proper elements, to start you off;
water to develop life.
You name it, you got it.
So what do you do,
produce a human species.
Arrogant, unruly, full of greed and hate:
and what do they do.
Destroy
the only, beautiful place in the Universe.
Fools.
You don’t get compassion
from me.
