Looking for the Lorax

They say the sky was once blue, the floor covered in green;

We had food to eat and the drinking water was clean.

Teeth were white and our homes were safe

before people’s wants took their needs’ place.

Sadly, that isn’t how we find our world now.

We take and we take and we watch the world decay,

only to make things for us to throw away.

What was once a mighty river is now just a trickle,

and the only grass that grows here is grickle.

We abandoned our homes on the tip top of the town,

when the unbearable weather forced us underground,

to beat the heat

and escape the sleet

with only snails left to eat.

And the Once-ler who started this whole mess,

entrusted me with the warning “Unless”.

Unless I plant the last truffula seed

and care a lot for the world and its needs

life as we know it will not succeed.

And I didn’t really know if I fit the part,

but nothing would get better until someone would start.

So I rolled up my sleeves and found the right spot,

to plant my little seed in its pot.

You’d think I was a gardening guru

cuz’ it grew and it grew

and in time I grew too!

I thought the world would heal once the seed was full grown,

but the wind was still sour, our bodies still bone,

our water still gunked up with Gluppity-Glupp!

My tree was left with no Bar-ba-loots to climb up.

No sign of Swomee-Swans, not a croak or a quack.

What would it take for the Lorax to come back?

The Lorax could show me how to clean the air,

and talk to the Whos that live here and there.

He would tell me just how many truffula trees

we would need to heal our little world with ease.

I was just a kid! If I failed, well... Heaven forbid!

The world was already so far gone.

Am I really who its fate rests upon?

Then came the first of its truffula fruit

(the first ever fruit I had tasted to boot).

I ate it all up with great speedy speed

then carefully harvested all of its seeds.

I hid one away safe in a heart shaped locket,

planted five in the ground, put the rest in my pocket.

Then I made my way to what was once the town square

and blew on my bugle for anyone, anywhere.

Up from the holes of their underground houses

came all the Whos and their kids and their spouses.

With one look at the pink tuft against the bleak land

they began to whisper about what was at hand.

Then I told them all what the Once-ler had said,

that the legend of Lorax had not been misread;

that if we didn’t let the trees spread

then we all may be soon as good as dead!

When the speech was done I cleared my throat

which now sounded of bossy sharp notes.

Some Whos cared a whole awful lot

about the state of the world, where others did not.

Some wanted to buy the tree to use up its wood,

or sell its tuft or fruit or whatever they could.

Some said “You fear monger, you’re making things up!”

Others just couldn’t seem to make their minds up.

A small group said it was too late,

that we should just accept our fate.

Yet some believed that the tides could be turned

And seemed like they were genuinely concerned.

These folk came to ask “How can I help?”

And to them I said: “Whelp, there is so much to do but let’s start with a seed. If we all work together we just might succeed.”

To them I gave some seeds from my pocket

but I kept away from those seeking a profit.

That’s when I realized there are three kinds of Whos here:

Those like the Lorax, the Once-ler or a Sight-seer:

To protect, to exploit, or pass by without a say,

we seemed to live life in only those ways.

Those like the Lorax had their trees planted

and by the new tufts all were enchanted!

And despite the new nurtured neon tufts

the world still was dying,

people still wanted stuff.

But I always spoke up for our truffula bark,

from choppers and lumberers and fires that sparked.

As time passed, there just above my lip

grew orangeish hair that I couldn’t clip.

No Who had a mustache like this before,

it resembled the one that the Lorax wore.

My new look did not distract from my work

I still spoke up loudly wherever I lurked:

“Excuse me, if you please,

I have come to speak for the trees,

We must all try to let them grow!

And harvest much less then we sew.

If we want clean air and fruit to eat,

then let nature be and take a seat.”

After many sewings, harvests, and rains

the first of the Bar-ba-loots finally came!

And in the distance there was a small hum,

and the Swomee-Swans had finally come!

As more trees grew with the Bar-ba-loots’ fruit

the new Once-lers came for their Bar-ba-loot suits.

Then I saw I must speak for not just the trees

but for the animals and water, the flowers and bees!

How could only I protect all of these?

Instead of getting discouraged I took this to mean

that I needed the Lorax or I needed a team!

So I rounded up all the Whos that I could

who would speak up for the greater good.

Then my friends who kept the trees from becoming ashes

all grew their own fuzzy orangeish mustaches!

And so did those who spoke for the Bar-ba-loots,

and those for the swans, or protected the fruits!

Whether one or all creations spoke to their heart,

a mustache would soon start

on any Who who was doing their part.

We called ourselves the Unless-ers,

protecting our world from its oppressors.

While others took to calling us Fuzzys:

more concerned with plants then our muzzys.

All their teasing couldn’t ease our pleas,

Nor could it unsour the breeze.

Soon more and more Whos grew a mustache

the orangeish hair spread like a rash!

More and more Whos with tufts to tend

sported what now was becoming a trend!

Soon Once-lers made strips of fuzz on a stick

to fashionably hold above their perched lips.

And the do-dads they sold were marked with Fuzzy Patches,

as if they too in truth wore our fuzzy mustaches.

Sight-seers bought up all of their stock

unaware that they weren’t part of our flock.

We had to tell them, our message solemn,

that they actually were just adding to the problem.

We had habits to change and laws to disbar

but we’re seen as a fad despite coming so far.

I came to the Once-lers with great supplication-

“If you want a real mustache speak with advocation,

don’t use up our resources without preservation!

Our staches only grow after lots of hard work!

You do nothing to help then you claim all the perks!”

But those Once-lers were set on bickering:

“We all must make money, so we are figuring,

we can justify it if business is biggering!

You think only of tomorrow in all your crusades,

but don’t seem to care if today’s Whos get paid.”

Now I was becoming red, and burst as I said,

“If nothing can grow, tomorrow's Who’s will go hungry!

Then will you find a way for them to eat their money?”

They dismissed all I said and labeled us ‘woke’.

Maybe they’d only listen if the Lorax spoke.

And that’s when the troubling thought came

without the Lorax, will things stay the same?

And after decades trees grew taller, the wind less sour,

but we were still on the brink of our final hour!

Yes, in time, the air had much less smoke,

we had some water, we could breath and not choke;

but the world seemed it would never quite be

what it was before we lost the truffula trees.

Now quite a bit older, I sat down depressed,

feeling weighed down by the pressure of “Unless”.

And just as I was feeling rather dumb,

my friend sat and said, “Why so glum?”

I said, “I knew things wouldn’t change over night,

but I didn’t expect it to be such a fight,

especially to see a change so slight.

If the Lorax would come he could make things right.”

She sighed, “You did exactly what the Lorax would

You spoke up, you did all that you could!

And while the world isn’t perfect, better is good!

A step for the better, however small

is better than taking no steps at all.

See the forest you started with just one seed?

Don’t under estimate the power of one good deed.”

And just as I began to feel a little less broken

I saw my stache in the mirror and my eyes were opened!

I’d always looked for the Lorax to save us, unless

only we could get us out of our mess...

“Though not much has changed, nothing else will

until,

We all step up and fight for change with goodwill!

And I could wait and wonder where the Lorax could be,

or see

that a bit of ‘the Lorax’ is in you and in me.

For we are the Lorax! We speak for the trees!

Which everyone, everyone, everyone needs!”