The Humans of The Future

When I was in the third grade my teacher asked our class to write down one thing we would want to tell the humans of the future.

 

A bunch of my friends said they wanted clothes that were cuter or cell phones that were newer.

 

So many ideas were running through my mind, so many ideas but not enough time.

 

i began to think that I would start off by telling the humans of the future to raise their kids like a flower, which gives fragrance to even the hand which takes its petals.

 

so that even if fools will cause violence in the world, they will find solution that will be gentle.

 

I would tell the humans of the future to avoid the mistakes we made, and make sure the amount of trash on this earth isn't monumental.

 

I would say sorry to them because we treated this earth like a trash can, when we should've treated it like a temple.

 

i would ask the humans of the future if Michael brown or Sandra bland have become small drops of injustice in an ocean of hate.

 

I would tell them that equality is something that humans  should radiate.  

 

I would tell the humans of the future that being colorblind isn't that bad, because at least you're not judging someone based on the pigmentation of their skin.

 

I would tell them that the only colors which matter, are the ones someone has within.

 

I would tell the humans of the future to atleast show some feeling, when the kids of Syria need help because they're bleeding.

 

I pray that the humans of the future are putting some effort or trying,

to help those millions of kids who don’t have food, and they’re dying.

 

i would tell the humans of the future, not to judge a girl by the scarf that's on her head.

And I would tell them that just because of someone's Origin or religion, they don't deserve to be dead.

 

I was about to write all of this down, but then a thought came to my head and I began to look around.

 

I looked at everyone in my class, every boy every girl.

and realized we are the humans who can fix the whole world.

 

we are waiting till later, relying on others.

expecting the next generation to fix all our blunders.

 

we let time pass us by, and spend years unknown.

day after day, not knowing how much we have grown,

 

it's like some sort of trap we fall into, not knowing.

wasting our time,forgetting we're growing

 

there is a limited number of times in life someone can say "i am young"

there is a limited number of times someone can breath air into their lungs.

 

your life story is a novel thats waiting to be sold,

it can not consist of you waiting till you're old.

 

I wanted to tell the third graders in my class, the world is literally in the palm of your hands.

you could silence the war throughout all the lands.

 

we are right now, with air in our lungs, no wrinkles near our eyes, and legs that feel brand new.

we are right now, there are so many things we can do.

 

and maybe just maybe if we do something right and our actions spark a flame.

 

100 years from today, the humans of the future  will remember our name.

 

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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