Envious you are,
Of the beauty I come with,
I, with my unaided eyes,
Have witnessed this envy.
I have watched you prosecute
For the word “conservation” is
A needle in your chests,
A choking seed in your throats.
Your vice has long been rewarded,
Murdering the humility in you.
What then will poetry do for me?
For words have been read,
Figures of speech enjoyed,
But missed is the message.
Often, I wonder if you have hearts,
If ever you listen to them,
Listen to how they beat,
How they feel, how they cry,
When you dump rubbish on me
With no care at all,
If that could be my mouth,
If that could be my eyes,
If that could be my nose.
Soon you’ll be asking yourselves:
“What has happened to the Grasslands,
Did grasslands run away from us?”
But you won’t ask yourselves:
“What have we done to the Grasslands?
Have we chased away Grasslands?”
Do you understand how odious you are?
By the way, I am simply Grasslands.
I have ears that hear your vicious acts
I have a nose that smells the dirt you dump on me
But, I – I – I…don’t have a mouth to speak