When it’s gone

(A depressing, badly written poem.)

When it’s gone

It won’t matter any more

How many likes that last post got on Facebook.

When the insects are dead

It won’t matter any more

If Georgia from accounts used up all your milk from the fridge.

When the food is gone

It won’t matter any more

Which celebrity is in the news today with their brand new look.

When the animals start to die

It won’t matter any more

Which Instagram filter makes you look your absolute best.

When the forests disappear

It won’t even matter any more

Who gets to have rights in this world.

When the planet fades

It won’t matter any more

Who is right and who is wrong,

Who has money and who has not,

Who looks bad and who looks hot,

Who lives where and who has what,

Who is important,

Who rises to the top,

Who gets to say whatever they want,

Who gets saved or who does not,

Which of your gods is your best shot.

No.

None of it will matter.

Because we’ll all be fucking dead.