Murder We Wrote

I yearn for a time when We have an earth a home where we have butterflies not plastic bags Seahorses not troughs of sea trash Fruitful forests not funerals or forests. I ache for the gray skies and poisoned water to dissipate. We are Earths Murder. Her spiteful significant other Always asking. Always taking. Celebrating one day a year. Already prepping for a life without her. Yet not recognizing were the reason for her destruction, hurt, and pain. We are the abuser. We have to face our actions before she cuts us off. It's already happening. We have to change the bags back to butterflies Remove the trash from the sea horses home Revive the families of trees Return the color to the sky Rejuvenate the water. Water. Trees. Sky. The basis of life. It all must be done Before she is done with us.