A small blue home…

Amid all the tense moments of our lives,

We are the same old people living

In the same old home

Of a million years old.

Breathing the same air,

The same water nourishing our veins;

We are but a crowd

Estranged in this universal plain,

Upon a small blue planet, called home.

Even if we destroy it,

The loss is ours;

If we were to kill each other,

The loss is ours.

Poisoning the only air we have,

We are going to curse our own generations;

And while dirtying the streets where we walk,

We are dirtying our very own home.

What else do we have

Than this small speck of a sphere called Earth?

We can live nowhere else;

We would die everywhere else.

Our delicate hearts can only beat

On this small patch of dust.

Were we to bomb it down,

We have no place else called a ‘shelter’.

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