Streams of Change

Water whispers secrets in rippling waves,
Yet many still thirst in silent caves.
A silver stream should quench the land,
But filth and waste choke its hand.

A drop of care can flood the night,
Yet many let wrongs drift out of sight.
The well of neglect runs deep and wide,
While promises dry in the desert tide.

Pipes should sing, not cough and groan,
Yet murky ghosts haunt taps at home.
A thirst unquenched, a tale untold,
Where children drink what time has spoiled.

Flush the folly, unclog the past,
Let clean hands hold the future fast.
Drain the doubt, let justice flow,
Where crystal streams and rivers grow.

No longer should a sip be a fight,
Nor morning start with parched delight.
A flood of change, a cleansing rain,
Let water’s worth be clear again.

For every well should brim with grace,
And none should beg for just a taste.
So let us stand, as oceans wide,
To turn the tide, to heal, to guide.