I am the soil.
I am in the hills,
and in the valleys,
the farms,
the orchards.
Without me humans could not exist.
But you treat me like dirt.
Do you realize that I am just a thin skin on this planet?
And that I’m actually alive?
Full of organisms that grow your food.
But I am broken,
aching,
overused,
sick.
Because of you.
You have withered me away to less than half of what I used to be just over 100 years ago.
Are you paying attention?
I am turning
to dust.
So maybe you could treat me with a little more respect.
I suppose you still want to eat, right?