Death's Mischief: On Climate Change Poem by Kebe Iwara

Who dares call you thief
for what is friendly mischief?
Enchanting as hollywood,
who'd mind the hood
a willy rookie wears.
When wild passion stirs
the heart of even a virgin
she sees just holy, sin.
Desperation puts the mind to sleep
and causes control to leap
out of the probitious heart.
Like this once sensitive rat
on this innocent crumbs of bread.
Cautiously, cautiously-snaps! Dead
on the rat trap
it misread the map.

The passion is now low
we reap what we sow;
a hole in the ozone
and heat where was a moan.
There's a secret awaiting a name
and things would never be the same.
He is now down his knees
begging it shouldn't be his.
-on second thought
she agrees to abort
the abbot in her womb,
soon to be a tomb.

But you are still 'motherer'
of what you try to bar.
Holy dear sister kate,
you are so 'funnykate'.
Though chance is spent
never to be innocent,
yet you shall never be ignorant
For now you have a sextant.
So dear, have the child
an abbot that is mild.

That he might not be called a thief,
death now plays mischief.