The Earth Don’t Need Your Sorry Ass, bubble-free stickers

“The Earth Don’t Need Your Sorry Ass” Oh children of Wi-Fi and double frappes, You strut through the forest in Gore-Tex wraps, Posting selfies with oceans, As if you invented emotion, But baby—Mother Earth don’t give you claps. She spun her blue hips long before your kind, Before your taxes, flags, and online minds, Before the wheel, the war, the song— Before you knew right from wrong— She danced in lava, wild and blind. You need her breath to pump your chest, You need her soil to lay and rest, You drink her tears, eat from her plate, And when she quakes—you call it fate— But you? She don’t need the pest. She’s got no need for banks or malls, No TikTok trends, no shopping sprawl, She’ll shake you off like fleas or lice, Reset her clock, re-roll the dice, And keep on spinning through it all. You thought you were the blessed crown? You plastic priest in Amazon gown? You live on borrowed chlorophyll, While she just waits—patient, still— For you to lay your madness down. So praise he