im afraid for our future
i stay up swiping through reposted articles
about unexplainable beached whales
untamable fires
plastic outnumbering fish in the sea
& have to wonder
do we really have a chance?
will we get the life
where we grow old
& have kids?
isn’t it a disservice, to want kids
only to leave them in the mess of our making?
will we have the years
to travel to the breathtaking sights?
& will they still be there for us,
when we seek them out?
its enough worry
to engulf me
much like the oceans will
unless i burn to a crisp first
its debilitating
crippling
& yet
theres this tiny dissonant thought
im assuming its the innate
primate in me
that encourages fight over flight
life over death.
it softly murmurs
in the spaces between
the cold hard beating,
& what if
despite all to come
you will have
a wonderful life?