My Poetic Sword

Today is the day that I explore my anger and my resentment over the power which you exert over my life. My anger over your betrayal, my anger over your ability to confuse me, manipulate me and pollute me. I trusted you and you took advantage of that trust and turned it into an ability to profit off of me. Is this why I live with a life long illness? One that has a definition and yet has no cure, no cause. My biology confused, my organic nature infused with those things that were insisted to me as necessary, good and wholesome. Buy me! it screams from the package, from the television, from the radio that you approved. Consume me, rub me in your skin, feed me to your child, breathe me in and die with me as part of your legacy. You care not for the consequence. You care not for the human or the fish or the bird. You care for nothing but the greed, in amounts that suffocate our global need.

Tomorrow is the day I explore my options within this web of your construction. I will trace those silk strings back to inception and lay claim and knowledge of your deception. How dare you poison my Mother, her rivers running black with tar. How dare you poison her celestial body and call her “polluted,” and “unfit” to nourish her thirsty children. While thousands lie waste in her warm clay, unable to pull their bodies through another day, you watch from your tower. You see this destruction made worse by the hour, as you count your stacks, made tall from the pain and suffering of it all.