Nature asks for jungles, And we have created.
But when she knew, She was devastated.
Torn apart, destroyed and morphed was she.
Different and minute, she was to be.
Her fragile roses, she protected with all her might.
Has been exchanged by blinking lights.
An outcast, a slave and our caretaker,
And did we say sorry or thank you to her?
We let her children in our lives,
Sometimes to just be cut by knifes.
She begged and sobbed to us for safety,
To you, to us and to me.
We tried to save her when she was near death,
When only we knew she had few left.
How could we blinded by greed and power,
To actually cure than prevent our infected mother?
Now we have face her deadly punishment,
And suffering and grief she sent.
We say for improvement there would be sacrifice,
when steal and destroy like scavenging mice?
Why value our selves if she was our refuge?
We live in her ginormous house, never ending and huge.
We abandoned her, taking a proportion of her blessings,
But we give the last of our petty things.
Now that we look back and see our mother in pain,
We protect of what a ratio that remain.
Go give her aid, helping little by little,
And now she has a better place to settle.
Urban and nature, helping each other,
We are the link from our creation to our lover.
