I know how much she holds

In the palm of her green hand

Why they seem to spite her

She will never understand

Her tired eyes watch as they scratch at her knees

More is what they want

More is what they plead

Opulence, what their idle minds foolishly crave

Unselfishly preserving their lives, she’s wary of her grave

they dig

                dig,  

                          dig

Dig up her roots, her oil, her diamonds

Squeeze at her throat, rip at her heaven

Gone one arm gone two, unable to realize that yes

She needs her hands to calm the seas, rising to their chest

To cool the air suffocating what little is left

But she gives them what they want

For her children, she lay down her life

This her duty, this her lot

She cries into her crimsoned hands because she knows what they do not

With her life they too will go

All to be forgot.