It is getting hot.
Hot Hot Hot
Hands bleeding
My hands
My hands are bleeding
The sun is bright
But the wind is heavy
Pools of blood fill the sea
Burning. Evaporating. Drying.
Freezing. Melting. Dying.
Our hands are bleeding and the world is dead
The world is dead and my blood is boiling.
But that’s okay, my grandchildren can fix it.
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