What’re we doing with water, our life's flowing font,
A twist of the tap, and it's ours, nonchalant.
We drain and we draw, ever more than we ought,
Pipes gushing with plenty, yet little the thought.
Fields thirst for a drop, while our fountains outpour,
Irony flows, from each sweating pore.
To quench the greed, we must learn to abstain,
Drip by drip, a new creed, less is to gain.
Catch the rain, let the rivers run free,
Teach the soil to sip gently, the crops to agree.
And yet, we stand by.
What’re we doing with water, when wells start to sigh,
Tanks are all empty but skies, ever cry.
Seeds sown in drought, in hopes they will sprout,
While we wash cars in the driveway, embracing our clout.
Faucets left running, a symphony of waste,
A careless twist of a tap used often in haste
Let’s turn the tide, with each drop we can save,
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
In the shower, the kitchen, conserve and be brave.
Fix all the leaks, let the lawns turn to gold,
Value each droplet, like the ancients of old.
And yet, we stand by.
What’re we doing with water, a mirror of strife,
Reflecting our battles, our cultural knife.
Rivers once boundless, now lines in the sand,
As nations lay claim, with a firm, thirsty hand.
The irony's sharp, like the crops left to wither,
While bottles are filled ready to deliver.
Raise the voice high, for policies fair,
Where water’s a right, not a corporate snare.
Share the resources, let treaties be penned,
Like blood in our veins, let it flow without end.
And yet, we stand by.
What’re we doing with water, a commodity's face,
Plastic wrapped, over priced and displaced.
From mountain to market, what a curious flight,
For a sip that once bubbled, so clear, so bright.
The irony's bitter, in each plastic-swathed sip,
As landfills with bottles, we used to equip.
Unwrap the folly, let the tap be a choice,
In the purity of water, let us all rejoice.
Recycle, reuse, let nothing go waste,
In this age of plastic, let's return to taste.
And yet, we stand by.
Each line a reflection, a call to our kin,
To ponder, to change, begins from within.
For the water we squander, in hubris and might,
Is the essence of life, not just ours by right.
So let's turn the page, with conscious cry,
Alter our path lest the wells all run dry,
Think of tomorrow, learn from the past,
Waste a long shadow, carelessly cast.
And still,
we stand by.