Please have a seat, my little son,
As I explain what I have done,
To save the planet from the weight
Of those, like you, I procreate.
I’ve engineered your DNA
To cut your height and what you weigh,
Although, as little as you are,
I may have gone a bit too far.
By snipping further at the strands
Of various and sundry glands,
Your vision now displays the traits
Which tigers cherish in their mates.
And further, to induce your will
To be a person of goodwill,
I’ve drugged your milk since you were three
To give you climate empathy.
I’m happy that your three-foot height,
Ability to see at night,
And fear of global climate change
Were gifts that I could help arrange.
Other climate change posts: