by Anita Thomas
Is it to till the soil?
knowing that the brown and the golden
Won’t feed your children.
Is it to take loans?
Knowing that the debt and the due,
Might perhaps only die with you.
Is it to buy chemicals?
Knowing that not the earth’s brink
But perhaps you would drink.
Is it to cry out?
Knowing that how much ever you dare,
No one would listen much less care.
Or is it to just die?
Knowing that this would be the same,
For every one who shares your name.