Would you hear my song

sung in my native tongue

sweeter than honey

would you know of my pain

when my home was wrecked

by machines that ran amok

would you stop to think

what you have done to me

my home of children five

our need for food, sleep and shelter too

if only, dear love, you had come

to see me as your own

you would have known

how precarious the trees

are as my haven

how insufficient the berries

that grow for us and you

how little of our thirst

is ever quenched

how our existence is a mere blotch

but first, love, you will have

to own yourself and yours’

maybe then you will start to think of me

till such time I am doomed

and so are my kind.

Ps: What a tailed friend said!