The world is drowning in a salty sea of toxic death,
Alas, none of us was told to build an ark.
The river banks smashed away by whipping wind and ripping rain,
A soggy apocalypse brought swiftly to bear.
While the levels sit soaking in tidal furore,
The gorges and dams hear barely a trickle.
The fickle fiddlers in the hot seat give not a hoot,
Their loot is their gain, no shame, no shame.
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