David Ramos 

They’re green. Are you green?

From the Earth’s core

to the soil of the surface,

I smell the pain of the grass

after being cut and shedding its tears.

“Why are you crying?”

I can’t bear every step that I take.

The scent of your pain hurts my heart.

Why hasn’t anyone heard your cry for help?

Will I help after taking a step on the solid clay

and then forget what you guys have done?

Looking back, I am sorry green, but looking forward

I want to throw my pain to you.

Never mind you, all colors have pain of their own.