The Art of Truth

Dear mom I know that I am loved  

But not with my skin color  

Sometimes I wish my faith was like a dove  

The earth is so cold, so it needs more summer  

 

Mom says, what’s wrong? 

But how do I tell the mother who gave me life  

That I don’t want life anymore  

I glance up to her with a sigh 

 

Dear mom I heard on the News that Donald Trump will remove birthright citizenship  

You gave birth to a brown girl  

Who doesn’t know her mother's country well, the language is hard to grip  

The politics for young people is becoming a blur  

 

 

The Truth is, if we don’t stand up now, our future children will get hurt ...

 

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world

Comments