Protestor

I block the traffic in the road;

And chain my body to railings,

To illustrate the catalogue

Of governments’ climate failings.

I march in the demonstrations,

Sit down on the Minister’s lawn,

To give some hope to the children

And those who have not yet been born.

Last month I was twice arrested,

For challenging this dirty game.

Fines and days in court are trifles,

But I still felt a twang of shame.

You see, I am no protestor;

No kind of activist am I.

I would prefer retirement,

To contemplate sea views and sky.

Yet, if I sit and do nothing,

I’ll aid and abet our descent,

To a creeping devastation,

Of all that this planet once meant.