Soft as clouds and pure as snow,
The humble tissue steals the show,
But behind its touch so kind and light,
Lurks a tale that’s far from right.

Forests fall to meet demand,
A single sneeze, a swiped hand,
Trees that whispered with the breeze,
Now lie in piles, no birds, no bees.

Bleached and processed, white as bone,
Chemicals seep where seeds were sown.
Rivers weep as they absorb
The toxins from this global orb.

Used once, then tossed without a care,
Piled in landfills, everywhere.
Decomposing slow, they’ll linger still,
Adding weight to Earth’s growing bill.

But the cost isn’t just what’s seen,
It’s the carbon trail and air unclean.
For tissues start their fleeting chore
With machines that guzzle and engines roar.

What can we do, you ask with dread?
Perhaps a hanky for your head?
Reusable, washable—better, it’s true,
A small change made by me and you.

Let’s save the trees, the streams, the sky,
For future hands to wipe and dry.
The humble tissue, a lesson taught—
To value Earth in all we’ve got.

T’issue the season of laundry despair,
When tissues pop up from here to who-knows-where.
They’re wadded in pockets, they’re stuffed in your sleeve,
A snowstorm erupts when your dryer takes leave.

The washer’s a blizzard of shredded remains,
White confetti that mocks all your fabric campaigns.
No matter how careful, no matter how sly,
A tissue escapes with a wink and a sigh.

It hides in your jeans, in a secretive nook,
Emerging victorious when you don’t look.
It’s tucked in your couch, it’s wedged in your shoe,
It’s there when you sneeze, and it’s there when you chew.

Oh, the haunting sound of that telltale rip,
As you pull from a pocket and feel your heart dip.
For tissues, those rebels, those feathery sprites,
Will follow you round through your days and your nights.

They pile on the counters, they litter the floor,
A crumpled rebellion you just can’t ignore.
A festive annoyance, a soft paper plague,
Like holiday glitter, but far more opaque.

Yet somehow they’re loyal, they’re always on hand,
In moments of sniffles, they’re perfectly planned.
So curse them, oh sure, but admit they’re a friend,
For tissues—like seasons—come back in the end.

The Handy Solution

Oh, humble square of cloth so neat,
A timeless hero, discreet and sweet.
No shreds, no lint, no snowy storm,
Just fabric folded, soft and warm.

A handkerchief, the tissue’s foe,
A guardian ready for tears to flow.
In pocket or purse, it quietly stays,
Awaiting its moment to save the day.

No washer mishaps, no dryer’s curse,
No phantom fluff making matters worse.
It’s washable, reusable, eco-approved,
A timeless solution, elegantly improved.

When sniffles attack or a tear runs astray,
Your trusty hanky is there to obey.
With a flourish, you whip it, a knight in the fray,
And vanquish the tissue that once led astray.

So trade in the paper, embrace the cloth,
A remedy simple, both savvy and swath.
For pockets at peace and no linty regret,
The handkerchief’s magic you’ll never forget!

Check out these awesome Hankies: