The Future You Spoil

The Bojun ran fast for he had little choice,
With his Karjittle-blast motor dry and not moist.
“It was fine,” so he said, though his heart had just sank,
“I put twelve perks of Oolg in my sixty Oolg tank.”

Though he had a great job, and his money kept safe,
The Karjittle-blast made his yibble-toms chafe.
It would drink and it drank every Oolgle-ful drop,
Though he cried and he shouted, “Please let the flood stop!”

Seems that Oolg at one time was as free as a beach,
’til the Rabsons of Nuvee saw riches in reach.
The Oolg on their land was much greater than all,
It was easy to get to, and easy to haul.

So the Bojuns and Marpips and Gargle-jom-teels
Sent the perks of their lands and they made their Oolg deals.
There were smiles and great joy as the Oolgs flowed on in,
All manner of vehicles filled up their bins.

As months turned to years, as they most always do,
The Rabsons got rich, and the Bojuns got blue.
Seems the Oolgs that were once of an endless supply,
Were much harder to reach as each year passed on by.

That the number of Oolgs was not endless they learned,
The number would dwindle the more Oolgs they burned.
More could not be new made, more could not be old found,
All the Oogls left they had were the Oogls left around.

“Let’s use them all up,” shouted some with great glee,
“My Karjittle-blast’s thirsty, and I must be free!”
But others said back, “What you want is to pitch
your message of using, so you can get rich.”

Karjittle-blast

But Rabsons when challenged put minds to their work,
Greasing Bojuns and Marpips with power and perks.
“So Oolgs are now scarce, we soon will find more;
if not found in fact, at the dream-on Oolg store.”

So you can well guess to where everyone ran–
It was cars that they needed, not some boring ol’ plan.
The Oolgs give them freedom to wend their days free,
They’d beat the great Oolg lack with technology.

Though grumbling they paid as the Oolgs became rare,
Their Jem-koobles, Yam-dibbles, and Lilli-fone-fairs;
Smaller in size to their guzzling kin,
These small crampy rides did not lessen the sin.

The day finally came, a Wednesday I think,
When the Oolgs were all gone, not a drop left to drink.
The Bojuns went walking, the Marpips as well,
What else could they do when their oolg-le world fell?

Ages much later, and great news was heard,
All illness would end without nary a word!
No suff’ring too, many thought was quite nice;
No sniffee-cam-bittle, no coffing-cam-dice

Though a cure was at hand and the steps not perverse,
The fate of the people was not better, but worse.
The key to the cure was a funny old brew,
All it needed was love, and an Oolg drop or two.

The Bojuns and Marpips were mad at their past,
For the Rabsons had taken their health from their grasp.
But not just the Rabsons, the Bojuns did feel,
Everyone did, plus the Gargle-jom-teels.

The key was with Oolg, they knew now at last,
But the Oolgs were all burned by the Karjittle-blasts.
The snapple-bob-bips also too were at fault,
They still used the Oolgs, from the great Oolg-ful vault.

They wished and they hoped that that earlier time,
Had the wisdom to see they committed a crime.
The Oolgs, you see now, weren’t just theirs to be had,
But for children to come, who were very much sad.

The moral they say, if you find such a thing,
Is that hunger ignores what time might yet bring.
It might be the Oolgs, say, or there maybe oil,
When you mindlessly take, it’s the future you spoil.