source is pure
destination forgiving
filled with silt
no longer clear
the waters of the river made brown
by heavy showers that sought
perhaps to wash all around me
to a place they felt clean
but the dirt now disturbed
by pesticide of farmers
trying to bolster their produce
improve their yield
the blood of the fallen
the smelter's poison
the sweat of those working
tirelessly in vain it seems
in pursuit of dirty money
that the rains could not wash clean
the air now polluted by screams for freedom
the voices of the scared
the noise of production
the sun shines rays of hope
absorbs
in this river i stand waist high
dare not submerge myself
beneath its murky surface
not even my faith strong enough
to stand a baptism in the waters
i helped dirty
tempting God
to fix even this.
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