Acid Rain

Acid Rain

The sky once held a softer kind of blue,

A gentler breath that settled on the land,

Now clouds arrive with something sharp and thin,

A quiet harm we struggle to understand.

I walk beneath a drizzle that should soothe,

Yet feel it sting like words I never said,

Each drop a trace of something out of place,

A weight that lingers long after it has fled.

The leaves no longer glisten as they did,

They curl away as though they sense the truth,

That what falls down is not the rain we knew,

But something shaped by carelessness and proof.

The rivers carry stories in their flow,

Of skies that changed without a sudden sound,

Of colours fading slowly into grey,

While no one thought to turn this thing around.

I think of how the world can shift so slight,

A thousand choices drifting into one,

Until the air itself begins to change,

And something pure forgets what it had done.

Still in the hush between each falling drop,

There lives a hope not easily erased,

That hands may learn to mend what they have marred,

And skies recall the clarity they faced.

For even now the earth endures the strain,

It holds its ground beneath the altered air,

And waits for us to notice what we’ve made,

And choose at last to show a deeper care.

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