Suicidal Planet

Jan 02, 2008 - 22:08 PM PST

“Suicidal Planet”

Martians from space
Can you hear me?
Can you heed me?
This is my
Blatant distress call
This is my
SOS
I’d like to explain my situation
If you could stop living in harmony to hear me for a moment
I’m sure this would at least interest you.

I live on a planet
Blue as an eye
Complete with hurricanes and tornados and tsunamis
It lies in the path of suns and black holes and giant rocks floating in space
Something any self-respecting planet would care to avoid
Like a mother making sure not to buy a house on the corner
And if that fails as well
The planet took the care
To create us.

I live on a suicidal planet
Won’t you help me?
Pick me up, please
I get off work at 1 then have a break before classes
Can’t I meet you in some parking lot then?
Please beam me aboard then

I’m afraid of this suicidal planet
It created a race that can only progress
Through destruction
And I’m bailing like the same careful mother ten years later
Didn’t get the corner house but still got a hysterical son

The planet, somewhere along the way, became clinically depressed and wants to die
Look at the scars
The self-inflicting wounds
The mountain ranges and canyons – is that not enough proof?
I live on a suicidal planet
And in its quest, it’ll kill me
I think it’s obvious that this is not just a theory

Martians from space
I don’t mean to introduce another problem to you
And since you’re probably not from mars, I’m sorry for calling you Martians
I can call you any name you please
I’ll work on the pronunciation, too
But please rescue me
Save my soul if it’s not infected
You’ll be able to tell with your gadgets, I’m sure
I’m on a suicidal planet that rages and rampages
And I can’t take anymore…
Please, heed my distress call.

I know it’s crazy to your society’s eyes but
The ground beneath me continuously moves
Shifts
Plates violently shake
Ripping the surface of my planet’s skin
You’ll think it’s crazy, but I’m sure you can tell
The planet’s children sometimes considers nuclear war
and the wealthiest nation is too bloated from overeating to do a thing
but don’t worry; the poor will all soon die of a disease
that makes the blood work against the body
Don’t you see
That you have to come rescue
Maybe not me
But somebody

Here’s my plea, at least hear me beg
Maybe if you can’t save me for fear of me spreading my planet’s seed
Like rats with the plague
Then, if you’ve considered the technology, blow us up instantly
We know we’re going to go sooner or later, but please end the mystery.
But I will wait
On my break
Between 12 and 2 in the afternoon
In the parking lot behind my work building.
Waiting for you.

P.S. Do I need photo I.D.?