The world will end before I turn fifty.
Thirty years left before all hope is lost.
I live in fear, my future is blurry.
Money lines their pockets, but at what cost.
Thirty years left before all hope is lost.
Glaciers are melting, the ocean is drowning
in man-made mountains of waste and trash, tossed
away like my chances of happily living.
Glaciers are melting, the ocean is drowning.
We are drowning in the trap that we laid
for ourselves. We wait while the clock is winding
down. I will pay for decisions I never made.
We are drowning in the trap that we laid.
I am scared, but I am told not to worry.
Time is running out, we will fall on our own blade.
The world will end before I turn fifty.
Apocalypse 2050
Jessica Lester
18