“How can I realistically say That I am excited for the future? That I have plans for where I want to be 10, 20, 30 years down the road? I know there won’t be much left by then I’m holding on with both hands But there’s only so much I can do I’m suffering the consequences Of decisions and actions I had no part in It is not my fault that I will probably not live to see old age I am only 19 And I’m bearing the burden of knowing That there will be so much we as humans will never know That there will be so much forgotten when we are gone Who will remember us when we’re dead? The winters will continue to freeze us to our bones And the summers make us drop one by one Our water will become poison And it’s creatures will choke and die And it will all be our fault Ocean levels will rise until our cities drown And the polar vortex is clawing its way Further and further And killing as it goes And we can only stand by and watch We have destroyed our home And now it is demanding retribution”
— If anyone is left when I’m gone, I’m sorry
