Bleach Over Water

You chose the bleach over the glass of water,

Knowing its sting, its burn, its slaughter.

The label screamed, Warning! Toxic! Fatal!

But still, you poured it, called it a cradle.

A leader’s truth, written in boast and blunder,

Unveiled his greed, his rage, his plunder.

He told you outright: I care for none but me,

Yet you crowned him king of your liberty.

You passed the water, cool and clear,

Dismissed it as weakness, scoffed at your fear.

“A woman can’t lead,” you claimed with pride,

While swallowing poison, your thirst denied.

Choosing fire over warmth, ash over bread,

Voting for walls, though your own house bled.

You turned from hope, from bridges and balm,

Toward a tempest that stilled no storm.

He mocked the weak, the poor, the lame,

Yet you lit the torch and fed the flame.

You cheered for cruelty, waved your flag,

As dignity crumbled, left to drag.

What of the women, bound and chained,

Who cast their votes for the hand that stained?

What of the mothers, the daughters, the wives,

Who ignored their pain, their unborn lives?

Did you forget, or did you not see,

That rights for one mean rights for thee?

That his promises, gilded in lies,

Would bind you too, as freedom dies?

Even Jesus Himself, had He walked this land,

Preaching love, compassion, a helping hand,

Would’ve been mocked, called weak, derided,

While the mob chose the man who divided.

A man who loathed the least of these,

Yet you lifted him high with ease.

You turned from grace, from mercy, from light,

And bowed to a shadow that thrived in spite.

Now here we stand, the bleach runs deep,

Promises broken, dreams put to sleep.

The water, untouched, still waits nearby,

But pride won’t allow a second try.

How many lives will it take to learn,

That the fire you stoke is the fire that burns?

That the leaders you choose reflect your soul,

And poison consumed exacts its toll?

Bleach over water, ash over bread,

Hate over hope, fear in its stead.

The choice was yours, the damage vast,

Yet still we fight, though shadows cast.

For someday, maybe, the thirst will fade,

And you’ll reach for the water you once betrayed.

Until then, we watch, with hearts worn thin,

Praying someday love will win.