Black Poets Society: Our House Is On Fire

By Aliyah Johnson The Black Lens

(This is inspired by Greta Thunberg’s speeches)

You say,

“We owe it to the young to give them hope.”

But I don’t want your hope.

I want your panic.

I want you to feel

the fear I feel every day.

I want you to act

as you would in a crisis.

Because

our house is on fire.

And you,

with your fairy tales

of eternal growth,

with your profit margins,

your oil-slicked prayers-

you dare to ask us for forgiveness

before you’ve even tried to change.

You have stolen

my dreams

and my childhood

with your empty words.

But I am one of the lucky ones.

People are suffering.

People are dying.

ecosystems are collapsing.

You say

“We hear you.”

But if you really understood

and still chose silence–

then you would be cruel.

You are failing us.

But we

are waking up.

And whether you like it

or not,

change is coming.

This isn’t about bunny hugs.

It’s not about photo ops or feel-good slogans.

This is about people,

real lives,

real homes swallowed by fires

real streets drowned in floods.

This is about a future

that’s slipping through our fingers.

There is no Planet B.

No backup world.

No Planet blah

And we’re done with waiting.

The world doesn’t need more quiet girls

who raise their hands

and wait to be called on.

The world needs

angry young women –

the kind who speak

before they’re spoken to,

who don’t ask for permission

to raise hell

when the future’s on fire.