Keep it Fresh

79% Nitrogen, 21% Oxygen fills my lungs with every breath I take

It is eternal until Idie, without it I'll suffocate.

Taken for granted , it is filled with pollutants invisible to the human eye

So says the lady with COPD and camel cigarettes before she dies.

I will get a stroke without it's presense in my brain

The texture is thick and heavy whem it rains.

If we make a mess of it through chemical factories, cars, or buses isn't God's gift a waste?

If so, why weren't humans put in outer space?

No, I sound too blunt yet my one request as a hypocrite who misues this resource is this:

Please keep my air, your air, our air clean to exist.


This poem is about: 
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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