History Poem by George otto Becker

What would you do if I did speak,
Our existence was fizzling out and we were freaks.
A quadrillion to one.
Our odds were weak.
The planet we live and the moon we see.
A work of art in the universe was me.
Born into this earth to be.
In our mind's live fantasy.
Into space our planet did spin.
Round the sun and back again.
We lived our lives with stars in our eyes,
Then the sun did die.
Our planet so cold we all froze.
And into space our lives disposed.
A short time we lived a life so free.
With our poems and verses were we.
Yet in the end were history.