I cried on election night.

I cried on election night.

Frozen in fear as I stared at my phone, 

I tried to not imagine my friends being dragged away

beaten, bruised, barebacked

like the kids in the history books

when another man said

he'd "make his country great again" 

and climbed over a hundred scapegoats 

then led them to the slaughter.

My parents said I was being irrational 

and overdramatic

as they cast their ballots for a man

who says my friends' fathers stole jobs 

and ruined the sanctity of our nation.

Yet I still believe, despite its original intentions,

that all men (and women) are created equal

and deserve to be treated as such. 

I will stand arm-in-arm 

with a bright spectrum of skin colors

and we will make that awful man's presidency 

a living hell.

This poem is about: 
My community
My country

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