You know, little face
with intentional ignorant eyes,
what you’ve done to this place?
I made waters with grace,
green pastures, and stately skies.
You know that. So, little face,
when did time become a race
to destroy all these beautiful supplies?
Look what you’ve done! This place—
its forests uprooted, species erased—
is filthy, while temperatures rise.
You know, little face,
that what you remove, you can’t replace.
You don’t care that it’s not wise
to use up what’s left of this place.
Now the waters and skies retaliate,
erasing your homes, swallowing cries
of those you love. Little face,
look at what you’ve done to this place.