The Cynic Speaks Poem by Richard St. Clair

Beautiful, yet strange, is nature's bounty!
Fauna and flora in a wild profusion,
Their numbers leave me in a staid confusion,
So many species even in my county.
We're warned that Earth is headed for disaster,
That life will soon diminish by one-eighth:
If so we'll all end up a ghostly wraith -
Over all life man will no longer be master.
But he never was the biblical lord of life,
Just another self-destroying kind,
Its runaway overpopulation in a bind,
With one another locked in mortal strife.
We aspire to peace and pray for love and beauty,
But in truth our aspiration is a phony.