A Warning.

Ungrateful.

That is what they are.

I gave them the lush green grass that they so easily tear away,

I gave them the cool, clear water that they soil without a thought,

I gave them life.

And now, they choose to take that life in their hands and crush it.

They release gases into the air that I gave them,

They don’t care,

But I do.

So I give them back the smoke that they give me,

But I give it back thicker, darker.

So I give them back the stifling heat that they give me,

But I give it back blazing, I give them fire.

What I give is a warning,

A chance to redeem my once beautiful land,

But they look upon the smoke and the crumbling ashes,

They turn around,

And walk away.