My Mother — Summary

My mother shes so beautiful She lights up with the day She looks out for me Walter, shelter, food

The songs she sings is soft, a trickle of a breeze She sings to me alot though the night and the day She sings of the past Her happy days

My mother, she is kind but mistreated is she Nobody respects my mother, but me People, strangers and people she knows Throw things at ny mother Shes hurting and sometimes she lets it show

Rowing storms, floods and droughts Shes letting people know My mother, she is dying But still nobody cares

People hurt my mother and not just with words Others look on, never do they help No matter how much I plead I will not live without my mother

I try ro protect my mother, yet my words fall flat I get pushed aside and laughed at I cannot protect her alone

My mother she is dying She looks out for all, all people and things Yes, no matter how small

I hope you feel bad, but no for me I hope that your angry too I hope you wished that people would listen to me But those people might just be you

My mother whose dying You may know her as Earth Its a sad consept That if she was human, more people would care

Yet I know people will, in the end For we only know what we have When we dont have it anymore

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For most of the poem, the speaker seems to be talking about an ordinary, loving mother: someone beautiful, kind, and caring, who sings softly and looks after her child. Then the twist arrives near the end. The mother is Earth, and the people who throw things at her, ignore her pain, and watch without helping are the ones damaging the planet.

The speaker feels protective, helpless, and angry. They try to defend her, but they get laughed at and pushed aside. The mood moves from tender to desperate, and finally to a challenge aimed straight at the reader: "I hope that your angry too," and the speaker admits those who won't listen "might just be you." The poem's sharpest point is that people would care far more if Earth were human. It ends with a quiet warning that we only understand what we have once it's gone.

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