No shit Senate

Climate change is real, the Senate sense,

No sense for the past thirty years or more

Yet still we talk of a crisis to come

While the world around begins to succumb.

The debate rages on as the tide encroaches,

The glaciers rumble and shake the shore,

The rivers dry and the estuaries crumble

While the senseless fat cats faff and fumble.

Why the conflict?

As the wasted in Paris waste the press,

Virginia steeps into vile recess.

The cesspit of minds these thoughts caress

Expand where once upon a time

It seemed though broken heads would fly

To far off lands from whence they came.

But back they come and fighting fierce,

Though never fair and ever near,

Each time the world descends under stress

The bastards turn on ones deemed less.

Conflict, it seems, is a crass necessity

Perpetuated by frustrated souls

In a world where many care but the cold remain

To keep the old order and minds the same.