America the Hate

The man in the orange mask does not know my struggles.

He does not know my intentions.

Or my dreams.

 

But how could he?

For it is a nation that strived on the working class,

the do-gooders of our ever-changing social construct.

But the man in the orange mask – Has crossed the border,

and has gone through the customs of brainwashing.

 

Yet I am here,

left to dismantle this border of inaccuracies that have been placed upon me.

The man in the orange mask has plans.

So many, many plans – he tells us.

 

Yet the only thing I have seen,

are false propositions.

False propositions to the less educated.

False propositions to the weary.

False propositions to those who have had the upper hand –

throughout the days of time.

Those who do not believe in the inherent privilege they have always possessed.

 

But how can I,

a woman,

change these propositions?

 

Change the brainwashing of a nation,

a place I once called home.

Ripping the mask off to show the shriveled tissue underneath.

My skin crawls.

 

I am here to stand for the common defense.

to promote the general welfare,

and secure the blessings of liberty,

to ourselves and our prosperity.

Do ordain the necessity of this revolution,

for the United States of America.

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741