Astronomy

I’m
Keeping
Track
Of
Mars,
Ascending
Through
The
Stars,
Dark
Layers
Deep,
Rising
As
We
Sleep.
The
Planet
Has
No
Place
For
The
Flailing
Human
Race,
And
Slides
Away
Before
We
Capture
It
As
Prey
And
Without
Heart,
Add
It
To
Our
Sky
Chart.
We
Have
No
Grace
To
Tend
Our
Home
Place,
Polluted
By
Our
Greed,
And
Must
Satisfy
The
Need
To
Fly
In
A
Race
To
Outer
Space,
Before
We
Die.