“They do not care about their children's world...Paris, will it be different? ”
I remember the day the ocean smelled different. What's wrong? I remember looking at the sky, brown and ugly. "Oh Mercy, Mercy Me," when will something be done?
So many years, the air feels different, this is not the feel of my arid home, the wind it wet, yet it doesn't rain, it is different, the wind is strong and angry, when will something be done?
Will my native friends be left alone to live on their land? Will my friends with a different color skin ever be treated equally?
The elephants, it makes me cry, the sharks, the butterflies, when will something be done?
My ocean is dying, my ice is melting, when will something be done?
The endless fires, the destruction and death, my forest is gone.
Write letters and more letters, sign petitions and call politicians, volunteer, vote. Nothing changes. They do not care about their children's world. I try harder. Nothing changes.
Paris, will it be different? Will we have to take to the streets, is civil disobedience the answer? Will it be too late?
When we are gone, I hope Mother Earth will heal.