Oh little worm I cry for you, a brave blue collar hero in the machinery of life. You can’t know that tiny, iridescent spheres of deadly plastic are concealed in the soil you eat so conscientiously and you may not know that your little life keeps the lungs of our planet-body healthy and fit. Oh little worm my tears imitate the tiny plastic bits and also the glistening blue planet orb. Falling into you my body's fluid, this useless regret is my only medicine. I will die and feed you, knowing that I am part plastic too. I am poison, even in death.
Written for Ingrid’s Earthweal Prompt – A Poetry that Does Not Compromise