Only in the history books

My mother claims she saw clear rivers,

A clear sky with an incandescent glow,

Grass as green as what they claim the other side to be,

But how am I stuck here in this dying globe?

The skies blushed as the sun resided into slumber,

Leaves tussled through the ferocious wind,

Earth respired as the moon awakened,

But why am I forced to live a life unfulfilled?

She’s told me stories of the tortoise and the hare,

Now in this world they’ve been left as a memory,

In our huge home we couldn’t sustain,

As both these species have reached the dinosaur age.

The carefree disposal of unauthorized garbage,

The ruthless snatching of material from their homes,

All reckless exertions done by our ancestors,

Only to result in their children fighting alone.

Who are we to blame?

Are we undeserving of a fresh breath of air?

A freezing cold winter?

A world lacking despair?

I will fight on behalf of my ancestors,

I will fight to never fight again,

To combine our minds and hold our hearts,

To wash off the guilt of a predecessor.

Those clear clean rivers and incandescent skies,

Those perennial waterfalls gushing over the cliff,

The warmth of the sun, excluding its rage,

Now can only be found, in a history book’s page.

~Manasa Magesh, 11D