When I take my final breath of our carbonated air,
I hope my family, of all ages, will be there,
I want them to know that I did my best,
Though most of my cohort failed the test.
I collected my cardboard and recycled my cans,
I reused my plastic and supported the bans.
I studied the science and followed the data,
I argued for the truth and took flak like a martyr.
I lost good friends and upset some of my dearest,
Told them they were fools believing conspiracy theorists.
So, when in the future my descendants are cursing
Our lack of concern for the damage we were causing,
When hundred-year floods and cyclones and droughts
Are far more serious and in more regular bouts,
When forests burn and bushfires plunder
Coastlines collapse and islands go under
When crocs and stingers arrive at Surfers Paradise
And insurance quadruples to cover the cost rise,
They’ll remember my words as I breathed my last breath.
It wasn’t me.
© Tropical Writers Inc 2025