America Made Me

America made me,

half believing in my dreams

half knowing I would have to fight for my life

battling the words meant to kill me,

giants spitting words 

claiming my gender made me

less than “all men”

when they said all men are created equal. 

America the free,

only for the privileged and wealthy,

hard work means nothing

when you were born to be a leader,

stomped on by the masses

in a parade specifically made

to dull your flame.

In Our America

there is no where to run, 

street lights illuminate our skin, 

but bury the sins of the few

who control our fates

and run us into the ground. 

America raised me,

but it cannot take the pain

of its preconditioned beliefs

that almost swallowed me whole.

This poem is about: 
My country
Our world

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