How industrial pollution is altering clouds and making it snow

2 comments

1. Gift link: [https://wapo.st/4hLwuu1
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2. The clouds once pure, now clouded with grief,

   As man’s machines bring sorrow, not relief.

   In skies once clear, the storms do grow,

   Pollution whispers, and makes it snow.

   What once was soft, now hard and cold,

   A story of nature, bitterly told.

   The skies once free, now bow to man’s hand,

   Turning snow into a shadowed land.

   Yet in this shift, a call to heed,

   To mend the world, to plant the seed.

   For clouds may change, and snow may fall,

   But we can rise, if we heed the call.

   Let not our actions cloud the sky,

   Let nature breathe, let the earth not cry.

   In every flake, in every storm,

   We hold the power to heal and transform.

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