Dear Mother,

We breathe your air

And drink your water,

But in the process

Your soul we slaughter.

We eat your food

And use your wood.

We take more from you

Than we should.

We sail your seas

And soar your skies,

Yet we neglect

Your pleas; your cries.

We wear your gold

And burn your oil,

Enjoy your beauty…

One we spoil.

We plant your soil

And drive your steel,

But do not give you

Time to heal.

We scale your mountains

And thread your ground.

Try to break from you

But to you we are bound

We live and die

By your command,

But you die because

Of our selfish demands.

© José V. Guerra Awe