Me, Mother Nature

I gave you a land of plenty,

Full of things for you to care,

In return, I let you grasp of my bountiful realm,

Sprawling with beauty unknown to man,

I let you taste from each fruit and vine,

But, like wolves, you grew hungry for more.

You’ve stripped my fertile land bare,

You’ve hunted each and every one of my children,

You’ve ripped my treasures from my arms,

You’ve planted, not my seeds, but structures,

Alien and foreign.

You do not care for my brothers and sisters,

And soon enough,

You will take more than what I can give.

And that’s when you’ll regret it.

Why couldn’t you hear the shout of the forests?

Why couldn’t you hear the cries of my children?

Why couldn’t you see my corpse from which you took?

Why did it have to take my demise for you to open your eyes?