“I am the Lorax. I speak for the trees,” is something quite right to describe me, you see; for I live in Richmond, and what do I see except concrete replacing nature once free. It boils my blood to see things in this state, and it seems I have been quite angry of late (though nobody else seems half this irate) to see the creatures and trees all meeting their fate. All the trees around town have all been cut down, and all the people tell me not to fret or to frown, but I think if I stay here, in sickness I’ll drown. The caterpillars, and the chipmunks, they all will drown too, along with the owl desperately asking “Who?” Maybe your vision is clogged by the smog, maybe you can’t escape your supercenter bog, perhaps you cannot see the forest for the logs, or maybe your mind’s short a few cogs, but surely even you wish to save the poor frogs! Full of sorrow and with a weary sigh, I try to explain, to tell the birds why the air is so thick that they cannot fly and just why it is that I sometimes cry. I tell the people just what they have taken away, and just what price they will soon have to pay. Misery is all that will fill the air in a place where all the trees are simply not there. Gasoline stations and shopping malls now cover up the creeks and the waterfalls. Wilderness is found lining all the halls in images used for decoration on walls. Suburbia, notorious for chopping down trees and using them only in name for her streets, has taken over this place with her Levit-town fleets. I am the Lorax, speaking for the trees in this town where bulldozers seem to do as they please. This horrid hacking and cutting simply must cease! No more spewing nasty garbage or grease! There will be nowhere to go once the trees are all gone, and so, you see, this simply cannot go on! People’s throats are so sore, they can not even yawn, and no one can see the sunrise at dawn! Grass will not even grow in my front lawn! This is disgusting, its wrong, how you tear nature apart. The trees all have voices, and they each have a heart; to cut them all down is simply not smart. They all have lives, and they each do their part to keep you breathing with ease, and so I ask you to stop cutting them down, if you please. I am the Lorax, I fight for peace, I fight for my trees to keep their truffula fleece. I will fight for the land, fight to save a piece where the air is not choked or filled with grease. On this piece of land, I will make my stand, and all the creatures’ lives will be grand! They will all be healthy and quite happy you see, for they all will live in the shade of the trees. The trees will grow strong and they will grow tall, they will be beautiful in Winter and Fall. Every creature, even the small, will have a home, one and all! I must make up for how you all have dropped the ball, I must compensate for your concrete walls! “Unless,” I once said, “Unless,” “Unless,” Well, “Unless” is now, and I’m trying to fix your mess! I cannot do this alone though, I need your help, you see. You must help me to win peace for the trees! You must help me to give this poor place a tomorrow! You must help me to end Mother Nature’s sorrow! She’s crying, she’s bleeding, while you go on building! Your hurting your mother! Are you even aware? You have no other, so you must take care! There’s something you all must know! You must replant the trees and let them grow! Here are seeds for all of you to sow! Plant them with hope, hope for tomorrow! Hope for a day without strife, hope for a green tomorrow, filled with life! I am the Lorax, and I say quite a lot. I speak for every beast and tree that cannot. I speak in order to save this spot!