"Mother" Nature
Apparently there's been a issue with
Chicago’s weather
Forecast say it’ll be 68
With a 20% chance of rain but then
It snows in the middle
Of the day
winter wonderfest
Getting a headstart on covering
Up bloodstained streets
With frosted water droplets
Purifying sidewalks for
The next sacrificial
Offering
Mother Nature
Trying her best to scrub off
Pomegranate fruits colored
Concrete these strange fruits not growing
In summers streets she's
Seen to many of her produce
Expire quickly so preservation
Is her only way in
Keeping life fresh hence on why she’s
Cold but others see it
As she’s always in a
Bad mood
ask for sun and you’ll get rain
she's just reframing from complying to
Demand because bodies
Continuously feeds her soil roots
Become entangled in bones
Nothing else to do after witnessing
Massacre after massacre with the
Culprit getting away so she
Stays quiet behind gravel
And rocks climate change her only signs
Of communication listen carefully
You hear her screams
with every whistle
Her hands dirty from crimes she didn’t
Commit unstable she is,
Alone….listen…….
Don’t you hear that……..that faint
begging for forgiveness…...that broken
Voice of a mother who failed her
Children not her fault
Intentionally but she couldn’t
Stop what was happen “im sorry” “ im sorry” in every Teardrop drop from
Heaven trying to raise
Her children from daisy
Covered field roses
The only vegetation to appear above dirt
Beds y cant she oversee her
Children in peace instead of
Pieced by battle wounds from
Pedestrian warfare that pierce
Skin why can't summer
Be how it use to b
Where life was as meaningful to
Everybody
When we actually enjoyed “mother’s” natural
Warm welcoming presence rather
Than seasons becoming being put
On shuffle lives only matter when
Temps reach below 40
this wasnt
In her life plan out to
Birth out generations so
Quick so that they returned to their maker she
Just wanted what every other
Mother did….to die before her kids
Not the other way around but to us its
Just the circle of life...that’s how it works
Isn’t it?
Copyright 2016 Khalill Graham