What did you do, once you knew?
It’s 3:23 in the morning,
And I am awake.
Because my great great grandchildren won’t let me sleep.
My great great grandchildren ask me in my dreams:
“What did you do while the planet was plundered?
What did you do when the Earth was unravelling?
Surely you did something when the seasons started failing,
When the mammals and reptiles and birds started dying?
Did you fill the streets with protest,
When democracy was stolen?
What did you do, once you knew?”