When I started this, it was going to be a response to today’s FOWC. But I could feel the poem going away from that as I came up with this, instead. Having decided that this was standalone, I then deliberately dropped the prompt reference, which by then felt contrived anyhow.
When some more of our rubbish is thrown,
Mother Ocean lets out a small groan,
As we saturate, devastate,
Her sanctity violate,
Overcome by our testosterone.
I need to hit the reset button in my brain but will try to come up with a decent prompt response later.