slow pond
Your children are political. You're praying for a miracle,
that someday, some way,
a generation won’t have to say
that we cannot wait another day to act.
And that’s a fact.
Your world is dying.
No, not it, you.
Humanity’s death mission,
Youth’s sustainable vision.
You’re cutting down the trees,
watching as nature silently call’s it’s final plea.
And still, you can’t see.
You have eyes but you’re blind.
Blind to the damage that you cause,
Blind to your own monstrous claws.
And so your children are political.
They’re praying for a miracle,
That someday, some way,
They won’t have to say,
That we cannot wait another day to act.
And you know that’s a fact.
eternal flower
barren coral