"Our Wonderful World?"

I sit on the hill
and look at my shadow
my hair is blowing in the breeze
I hear the birds in the trees
and the nature all around
I feel the moss beneath my feet and think to myself oh what a treat
But then I look up and what do I see?
The trees have been cut and the branches are bare
as they try and try to grow
But again and again they are pushed away
by the people who now live in their home
Trash on the ground I hear the sounds of traffic whizzing through
Seeing the scene you want to cry
and I feel the tears jerking at my eyes
These trees burn in a hell
but no, they cannot utter a sound
The song of the birds now sounds like a plea
begging me to help them please