Code Red by Anjelic Medina
Drawing by Daimian J. Torres
Someone once said, “The world owes you nothing. It was here first.”
But right now, we owe the world everything.
Scary thing, isn’t it?
So far, yet right in our face and we submit.
That it’s an idea so absurd, you can’t help but disbelieve.
But it’s real and a solution is something we need.
And we need it now.
It’s obvious we need to change, yet we don’t know how.
What steps do we take?
What moves do we make?
What’s right? What’s wrong?
Time so short for something that takes so long to solve.
Scratch that, it’s terrifying.
Doom impends us.
Someone, save us
But no one’s coming.
And no one will.
Because what have we done to deserve help?
To deserve love?
Nothing at all.
Because when the winds howled and the rain attacked,
And the trees and plants begged us to help them last,
We turned our backs.
And covered our ears.
And prayed that we would never hear.
Our world is no longer a home.
It’s a battlefield.
But the bombs and blows are our own actions.
Our world is divided by faction.
And we don’t know how to take a stand.
So we sit and wait, wait for someone to save our land.
Once, bright skies covered by smog in Beijing.
Hot temperatures all day long on Earth’s four wings
Storms dominating our homes on the islands.
Floods coming towards us.
And leaving children crying.
Threatening to take our domain and maybe our lives.
And Mother Nature cries.
Because she didn’t want this.
To provide and help us survive.
To cherish and let us flourish.
That’s all she wanted.
And the solution is so easy.
Turn off a light? Easy.
Unplug your phone? Easy.
Plant a tree? Easy.
Yet we make it so hard.
And before we deal our final card,
We have to decide,
We have to know,
Is this the path we wish to go?
The path where our home is gone.
The path where we won’t last for long.
The path where we have to leave.
The path where for the life we had, we grieve.
Yet we do nothing
When we could do something.
Fight for what’s right.
Fight for your life.
And like that poem,
“Rage, rage against the dying of the light,”
“Do not go gentle into that good night.”