The Writers Voice
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She turns to us and yells so loud
her face turning red with the might of her anger.
She turned to us and screams so loud
the earth we destroyed shaking under her force.
“What have you done?” She yells at us.
“What have you done to my beautiful home?
the one I so skillfully tried to create?
with trees that bloomed so healthy and rich,
and animals that roamed freely around.
You see that tree, the one you sit on,
it is neither blooming nor rich.
You see the space you call your home,
it contains no animals that freely roam.
I entrusted you with my home, the thing I love most,
and instead your minds where corrupted by power.
You created cars that leave scars here,
when walking away was always an option.
And now that I see how mindless your ways are,
I want to take my home back to care for,
but I cannot.
Because you, mankind, are blind when power is involved.
And now I must watch while the destruction unfolds.
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