The poem of 6°

The red, white and blue flag no longer waves with pride.

Half of your land is dead and fried.

Africa's three peaks cries tears,

Tears of dreary memories misery.

The old Greeks land will dry

Not even Adonis can guide the green now.

Poseidons land will rise,

No one on land can hike again.

Houston, you have a problem.

Greenlands land will soon see the light of day.

While walking monkeys live on smaller ground.

No ice no rain, I guess we pay the price and strain.

Our home is no longer a utopia,

We live in a dystopia