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The Path of a Water Droplet
The sky crawls over me.
It draws us up.
More droplets float up.
We bump into each other.
In silent tribute we stand,
Walking away from the home,
In the constant cycle
of the Earth.
Dragging us up by the fingers,
the clouds take us.
In their foggy embrace, we lay.
We relax,
But not for long.
The cloud pushes us downward.
Hard.
Our relaxing has never been so short.
We plummet towards the earth.
Our home is gone,
in a circle of life.
I fall hard onto a clear surface.
It moves fast.
An annoyed woman has her hands
On a circle.
She turns it.
I fall off
Onto the ground.
Others join me
in a slow parade
to a dark grate.
As I get closer,
I begin to feel alone.
We are dropped into it.
Thousands upon thousands of us,
somehow find the grate.
How? What force is dragging us this time?
Too late.
I feel myself falling.
Farther down, and down,
It seems without end.
But it’s not.
We land in a cavern.
A large cylinder.
Murky and mucky.
Green covering the walls.
This is what the humans called
Pollution.
Human stuff are strewn
inside the ever-changing river,
the river of us.
Swept away.
Where are we going?
Nobody knows.
Cans of soda,
bottle caps,
even dead fish,
surround us,
and engulf us.
This is what humans call a home?
After endless traveling,
us droplets pushing up against each other,
we reach a vast expanse.
Of water.
It was dirty.
Once again, the humans have destroyed
what was given to them.
Careless,
Angry,
Despair.
Forever trapped am I.
Underneath
the garbage.
I can’t get up.
I will just have to wait down here.
Until nature calls,
And I am pulled up,
into the sky
again.
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I submitted this for an Earth Day competition, and the prompt was to write about stormwater and sewers.