We take what we want
yet she asks for nothing in return.
We pluck fruit from her rich soil
and thank her by pumping poison
into her lungs.

For her once-green hills
now blaze crimson blood,
ash clouds the sky and
she screams in agony,
and we stay silent.
No one lifts a finger to help her.

Yet she still cries down upon us,
cooling our sun-scorched skin
after a hot summer’s eve
and we think nothing of it.
We never ask,
“Oh mother, why are you crying?”

For the tears she has rained down upon us:
how many tears have we wept for her?
Why don’t we cry when we poison her waters?
Why don’t we cry when we burn the great forests of her millennia?
Why don’t we cry when her children are being murdered simply for trying to survive?
Why don’t we care?

Our world is dying,
our caretaker,
our mother,
and it’s not the time to sugarcoat it.
Our biggest mistake
is waiting for someone else to fix the problem
because no one else will.
For the longer we wait
the more future you steal
from your sons and daughters.

It’s time to cherish her,
thank her for everything she has done,
apologize for the pain she has endured,
and it’s about time we care—

but maybe you don’t care,
maybe you only care about your measly life.
But I want you to remember this.
If she burns
we burn with her.