“I am a plastic Bag drifting up and down
I used to be holding coupons of discount
But an old bloke put me up in the air
Now I’m a flying adventurer, gliding with flair.
I see rivers of pollution and trash and junk
For humans in the lakes, garbage, plunk
I see clouds of waste and land of litter
For they in the nature, kill and spittle .
I stare at suffocated blue tits and jays
Screeching in the misty Beijing haze
I stare at dying dolphins, plastic bag on snout
For they were trapped, with no life or no air to pout.
I gawk at forest fires that mist the sky
For them humans, they smoke and die
I gawk at the tall metropolis and houses
For they tear the chest of the Earth, the louses.
I think of my destiny that sways in the breeze
The fate of the Earth rests upon my knees
But I’m only a frail adventurin’ plastic bag
I’m not a human, not a lion, not a stag .”
The plastic bag drifts past and lands under a tyre.
His skin splits as he is ripped like the strings of a lyre
Quest or not.
Plastic Bag’s tale lives on,
Inspiring us to save our environment, no scorn.