This.

This and that,
Goes through my mind,
I think about it all,

Of wars and bombs,
And modern tech,
It makes one feel so small,

I ponder what our future holds,
If humans will make it,
It's hard to see our path,

We've stolen all the cobblestones,
And sold them on eBay,
We even made off with the grass,

We wonder why the worlds changing,
And some of it's our fault,
Though maybe not as much as we think,

The world is going to outlast us,
By a very long way,
So this is yet another brink,

But like always the world will make it,
A little battered and bruised,
And with fewer of us here to pollute,

Almost makes you want to see that now,
To see a world without us ruining it,
Now that would be just beaut.

Written 28/12/2009 at 0259am. Just started with the word This and went from there. My poetic self sure is a bloody Greeny, LOL.