39 - 3007 - @InEssenceOfPotatoes - Poetry

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3007

By InEssenceOfPotatoes


The year is 3007.

Home planet, nothing but sinking sand.

Expeditions to farther reaches of desolation,

our need for water, further exploration.

Red planet, settlement for billions.

Oxygen production, small machines, portable.

Boat, paddle back to old Earth.

Not going anywhere, being over there.

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