text: Do you know what he would have thought? Do you? Today I see you flourishing. Your grass, long thick and emerald green bathing in the sunlight. Would he now look upon you and smile? I glance down to my feet, which are naked and free. Free but I can still see where the chain held its grip, a snaking trench ingrained into my soft skin. You and I are alike, in these days we heal but our scars run deep. I know they stripped you bare also, and took you as property when neither of us could be possessed. We cried out, in our different ways, for them to stop. Stop! Stop! Stop! But they didn't. No-one stopped. They squandered all we had to offer, cut through our flesh, poisoned our bodies until we had nothing left. Then they asked for more. What would he have thought? Was my question now, as I gaze across you in this new world. A world that bloomed in green where the cold, concrete walls once stood. Would he believe the past was unforgivable? I miss him. Sometimes I cry out in my sleep, ‘Jack, come back!’ and I wait for an answer between my whimpers. Of course, there is no answer. I miss him and his smile of positive optimism. An optimism that Jack held to his last breath, when he held his head back and smiled into the sky. 'Lulu' he said, 'hold tight, change is coming'. He was right, he was always right, the change did come. But it was too late, as the change came once he was gone. I felt his life gently leave his body. His heart stammering to its last beat, and his arm went limp, falling into my lap. My tears bubbled up with my despair, spilling down onto his skin, tracing small streams of white through the dirt. Jack is gone, as are so many, and our new city is haunted by their silence. So I come here, to your meadow plains that wrap around the city’s circumference. Meadows of grass, buttercups, and meadowsweet. I belong here, with you. For your sweet earthy smells and your birds, beetles, and bugs. From the meadows, I can gaze across our green city. A city in a wild garden is what we call it. This new city has no greedy towers. No vehicles feasting on carbon, beeping in anger and impatience. And they have gone, those who lived in denial, as the truth was not prosperous for their wallets. They did not care for us. It was only when you fought back, whipped out your final scream of anger and agony. No more could be taken, your balance had been shattered and you could no longer give. When you fought back, our cities crumbled. Our economy meant nothing. Paper notes rip easily in hurricane winds. Paper notes do nothing for the starving seared people that begged in the dry, cracked earth. Paper notes do nothing for the homes drowning under a rising sea. But it was the wars which smote us. People destroying people, the reasons lost somewhere with each bullet. Desperate people do desperate things you know. I was in that place, a place with no reason or time, in an existence that I could not define as ‘’living’’. It was because of the wars that I watched those I loved vanish from my life. I was taken, beaten and poisoned. The ‘Dringo’ tribe took me, along with so many, and they said ‘fight!’ as the needle pierced my skin. With clouded minds, we fought. I look at my hands now and I think ‘are these the hands of a murderer?’ I never knew I could kill. Jack never knew he could kill, or would be killed. You fought back, and so we fought, dragging you further down with us. You wouldn’t think so, as I stand here today in your peace and beauty. Jack saved me with his hope of change. His optimism pushed me onwards, and he was right. When all was lost, a new wind blew and today’s world was built. A few of us remained, like embers glowing in the dark. We came together and ignited change, rebuilding our lives to include you, nature, our green cities now working with you and not against you. I try to bury my scars deep as you do, and I embrace this new life as we slowly heal. You fought back, nature, and we did eventually listen.