Intro:
The clock ticks faster, ice melts quicker, and the skies grow heavier with the weight of unkept promises. This poem channels the frustration and urgency of the climate crisis — a plea and a warning wrapped in a slam’s raw truth.
Poem:
We danced on fire, sang in smoke,
While glaciers wept and oceans spoke.
The warnings came — sirens, bells,
But profits rang louder than nature’s knells.
The earth’s lungs choke in poisoned air,
But suits and ties just don’t seem to care.
“Growth,” they say, “is endless, bright,”
While forests burn beneath their light.
Species vanish, one by one,
Under the glare of a dying sun.
We write reports, and we delay,
While storms tear more dreams away.
But still, in youth’s unyielding eyes,
The seeds of change begin to rise.
No longer silent, no longer tame,
The climate’s last verse is calling your name.
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