Global Warming Poem by Tom Billsborough

My mantle slides into the sea
And still you do not see
And still you do not see
Blinded by greed
Or crass ineptitude.
Shall I, who gave you birth,
Become creator of your death?

Shall I become Tamora
To consume my children whole?
And all the fauna, flora,
Which should enrich your soul.
I see myislands drowning
Beneath the fruitless waves
Salting up the soils
And planting ready graves.
My forests turned to pastures
With lethal consequence
Garnering brief fortunes
For those who have no sense.

My mantle slides into the sea
And still you do not see
And still you do not see
Nor listen either
To those wise souls
Who care so deeply
For their earthly mother.