Dear Diary,

Today I watched the ocean burn.

Oil spill, they called it.

As I watched the black sludge blanket the horizon

I swore I could almost hear Mother Earth beg for mercy.

 

Dear Diary,

There are no silver linings to clouds of toxic waste.

 

Dear Diary,

Today I learned in order to reap what you sow, you cannot only

reap and reap and reap and pollute and drill and cut and burn.

To have, you must give.

 

Dear Diary,

You cannot plant a family tree if you have no planet to grow it in.

 

Dear Diary,

When will we change?

When we choke the sun from the sky

and the only waves that rise from the seas are waves of radioactivity?

 

Dear Diary,

Funny how the word “deforestation” kinda sounds like “self-destruction” to me.

 

Dear Diary,

Yesterday was so hot my shoes melted into the sidewalk.

My feet were scalded by the pavement.

Mother Earth has a hot temper.

 

Dear Diary,

Why haven’t I heard any birds today?

 

Dear Diary,

We have taken our mother for granted.

Now she has come to take back what’s hers.