Chain backward for a very long while,

To the Cretaceous Period, a big pile

Of years, sixty-five million, give or take,

Lots of eras and ages, eons make,

But no species ever, no sir, none

Has had success as bright as one,

The ones who think and images draw,

It’s man, of weak tooth and claw,

That’s been successful, done so well,

Beaten competition until they fell,

And dominated everywhere he went,

Many species to oblivion he’s sent,

Taking their habitat for his very own,

Great golf acreage to grass he’s sown,

Making it tidy, well-groomed, neat,

A vast plot nothing can eat.

Paved great expanses his cars to park,

No bird can go nesting, not even a lark.

Built rows of houses, cranny and nook,

All available sites the bulldozer took,

And pushed this way and pulled that,

‘Til every last lot was bare and flat,

Constructed with timbers gathered afar

Houses for humans, each with a car,

But Man crowds out what he doesn’t like

Wherever he goes, by foot, car or bike,

Don’t want creatures teased or taunted,

But don’t understand those unwanted.

Never thinking what it may mean

To animals that scrounge to glean

A bare existence. So next in chain

May falter, fade, recede and wane.

Doing all this, man’s numbers grew wide,

As other large species withered and died,

His numbers increase in perfect sync

With lists of species threatened and extinct.

Did this well with six billion strong,

Any critters left if we double our throng?

Think how bright what lies ahead,

With Man still living, all else dead!

Ask can Man live, all else removed?

Or would he be otherwise behooved

For other beings to leave some room,

Reduce his numbers, stop their doom?

I think so, and I hope we’ll try

It’s better for us, I’ll tell you why,

Man’s species, without any other,

Will wither, fade, and go no further.