Decisions for My Future

How is it so
That power is held in the hands of the old,
Who mine for their gold,
When our children won’t know what it’s like to be cold?

Since I’ve only lived for these days years and hours
In your eyes I’m not fit for positions of power—

Politicians I thought were magicians of change
But now I see that they just keep things the same.

This lifestyle won’t last—
If you could look past
The differences designed
By petty borderlines
You’d see
That your boosting our economy
Is costing our ecology.

I can’t turn my passion into action
But you can.

You can make decisions for my future
That I can’t.

But all our protests
That you contest
With your power and denial—
Adding this threat to our humanity
To your broken-promise pile—
Can’t have meaning until
You give my voice your time
So stop telling us that everything will be fine.

Photo by AJ Colores on Unsplash