“The sea cries”
The sea cries, the sea is sad. Its tears are no longer crystal clear blue waters, they’re more green.
Everytime the sea cries, at all times it cries. It cries plastics, it cries bottles, it cries remnants of anything.
The waves that reach the shore dye the sand, the sea cries tar.
The sea cries, and cries inconsolably. Often its tears become remains of algae or dead fish.
At all times it cries, at all times it shouts at us but we ignore it.
At all times its water are only the reflection of our stupidity, of our neglect, of our selfishness and of our ambition, and we are accomplices of its sadness.
Can you imagine being locked in a bubble? And the sea locked in a bottle?
Comfort my grief because, in time, my grief will be your grief."
The sea cries, the sea is sad. Its tears are no longer crystal clear blue waters, they’re more green.
Everytime the sea cries, at all times it cries. It cries plastics, it cries bottles, it cries remnants of anything.
The waves that reach the shore dye the sand, the sea cries tar.
The sea cries, and cries inconsolably. Often its tears become remains of algae or dead fish.
At all times it cries, at all times it shouts at us but we ignore it.
At all times its water are only the reflection of our stupidity, of our neglect, of our selfishness and of our ambition, and we are accomplices of its sadness.
Can you imagine being locked in a bubble? And the sea locked in a bottle?
Comfort my grief because, in time, my grief will be your grief."