Poem #7891
The Weight of Our Hands
Our hands have sculpted mountains of carbon, unseen,
yet felt in every warming breeze, every parched field.
We have mined the earth's deep heart for fleeting warmth,
and filled the sky with the ghosts of our ambition.
The hum of industry, a lullaby we chose to hear,
drowning out the planet's rising plea.
We traded pristine air for hurried progress,
a Faustian bargain for a moment's ease.
Generations unborn will inherit this fractured world,
asking what wisdom guided our complacent age.
Did we not see the signs, the scarlet warnings?
Or did we simply choose to turn away?
The weight of our collective choice, a burden shared,
falls upon the shoulders of a future we designed.
Yet, within the shadow of our past, a flicker of resolve,
a chance to mend, to learn, to bravely realign.
yet felt in every warming breeze, every parched field.
We have mined the earth's deep heart for fleeting warmth,
and filled the sky with the ghosts of our ambition.
The hum of industry, a lullaby we chose to hear,
drowning out the planet's rising plea.
We traded pristine air for hurried progress,
a Faustian bargain for a moment's ease.
Generations unborn will inherit this fractured world,
asking what wisdom guided our complacent age.
Did we not see the signs, the scarlet warnings?
Or did we simply choose to turn away?
The weight of our collective choice, a burden shared,
falls upon the shoulders of a future we designed.
Yet, within the shadow of our past, a flicker of resolve,
a chance to mend, to learn, to bravely realign.
Prompt: Free verse Climate Change poem in 1000 words
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