Global Warming Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

The ice weeps slow, a silent, chilling tear,
a fractured mirror where the end draws near.

The seas ascend, a hungry rising tide,
where coastal cities, once with beauty, hide.

The desert sighs, a parched and barren breath,
where life retreats and whispers turn to death.

The storms unleash, a furious blinding rage,
a planet's fever turning a new page.

The forests burn, a funeral pyre's glow,
where ancient giants, to ashen shadows go.

The air, a shroud where toxins twist and bind,
a fragile balance left so far behind.

The silent creatures vanishing from sight,
a planet's chorus fading into night.

The hollow promise of a distant brighter day,
while selfish hands still steal the world away.

A desperate plea for eyes that finally see,
the fragile threads of our mortality.

To mend the fabric torn by our own greed,
and plant the seeds of what the future needs.

To find the wisdom in a world laid bare,
and breathe again a clean and conscious air.