Unless someone like you
cares a whole awful lot,
nothing is going to get better,
So I took the seed that the Once-ler gave to me
and I set off to plant a truffula tree.
I hope that the very last seed of them all
will bring back the barbaloots, the small and the tall.
And the orange swomee swans can return with a song,
with the splishy splash humming fish humming along.
But mostly I hope it will bring back the sky,
since all I I have known are smoke smuggered stars,
and smoggy smog clouds without any shine.
What people keep forgetting
Is that people aren’t perfect,
And even though things got all glumped up
I feel bad for the Once-ler, all shut up in his lerkim,
Because he truly didn’t mean to cause so much harm.
And he misses the swomee swans, ringing songs into space,
The brown barbaloots,
eating truffula fruits,
Humming fish humming in clear, sunshine water,
And maybe even
If I give this seed water,
Feed it fresh air,
Protect it from axes,
Show the seed that I care,
Then when it grows…
I’ll have even more seeds,
For even more trees,
But not for thneeds,
That “everyone needs,”
Trees for the Lorax,
Trees for the sky,
Trees for the world, the Once-ler, and I.