Disposable World Poem by Robert Melliard

Grandpa had a cut-throat razor.
He showed it to me once,
when I was still a wide-eyed child.

He sharpened it from time to time
on a shiny leather strap.
He said he'd used it all his life.

Today most razors are disposable -
at least the blades.
Few pens can be refilled.
Handkerchiefs and napkins have given way
to tissues and paper serviettes.

Clothes don't last as long as they did once.
Appliances and cars
have long had built-in obsolescence.

I'm getting old,
but the picture's clear:
we make things worse,
take care of them less,
and then complain
that Nature's in a mess.