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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required the pool turned green, like a warning flare, like the water finally snapped and said it couldn’t keep pretending, monuments posing in the background while the surface rotted, tourists taking pictures of a sick body dressed up as a symbol, the liner torn like skin pulled too tight, the whole thing leaking truth into the dirt beneath it, i walked along the edge and felt the planet breathing through the cracks, a fever under concrete, a pulse under stone, the algae rising like bruises on a world that’s been punched too long, the water reflecting everything they don’t want to see, the damage, the hands, the shortcuts, the cheap fixes, the panic, the pride, the poison, you can’t chlorinate a dying world, you can’t scrub a wound with denial, the pool just mirrored the mess, the runoff, the runoff, the runoff, all the things we dump into the earth and expect it to swallow without complaint, the green glow humming like a siren, like a throat clearing before a scream, i saw my face in that water, warped, stretched, tinted sick, like the planet was trying to tell me something, like it was whispering through the algae, “i’m not fine, i’m not fine,” and the monuments stood there pretending everything was eternal, but the pool knew better, the pool always knows better, the world is tired of being polite, tired of being the backdrop for speeches and promises, tired of being patched with tape and called restored, the pool turned green because the truth always leaks through, because the earth always answers back, because you can’t keep poisoning a body and expect it to stay clear, if the pool is a warning, then the oceans are a scream, if the algae is a symptom, then the fever’s in the bloodstream, the rivers, the lakes, the lungs of the world, all of them turning shades we don’t want to name, all of them reflecting the same thing, the same thing, the same thing, the pool turned green and nobody listened, they just blamed the colour, blamed the look, blamed the surface, but never the hands that touched it, never the choices that fed it, never the world we keep breaking while pretending it’s still whole, still holy, still ours to ruin, i walked away with the taste of metal in my mouth, the kind you get before a storm, the kind you get when the air is trying to warn you, and the pool behind me shimmered like a bruise in the sun, reflecting everything, everything, everything we refuse to face.
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