What Would They Say

What would they say?
Our grandchildren?
When they wake each morning
and instead of the sun,
a murky cloud of smog;
filled with toxins, unbreathable.

What would they think?
Our great grandchildren?
The heat so intense,
yet not a drop to drink.
For hazard signs, bar off a diseased lake;
filled with garbage, undrinkable.

What would they do?
Our descendants?
As disease runs wild,
the cure left extinct, due to deforestation.
The rain forest gone, each tree now a stump;
filled with barren remnants, unlivable.

What would they see?
The future generations?
Animals long since extinct,
exterminated, by the dominion of man.
The beauty of the wild gone;
filled with concrete and plastic, unsustainable.

What would they feel?
The lives of tomorrow?
As they struggle for survival,
amongst the crumbling, ruins of the world;
destroyed by hatred, poisoned by greed;
dried up, broken, dead, unreal.

Yes what would they say?
Our Sons? Our Daughters?
If they were ever to learn,
that we had destroyed their world.