PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Truism


Thank you for calling the House of Representatives Para Español oprime uno For English press two BEEP! All of our Representatives are currently assisting other callers your hold time will be two minutes. Ugh it feels like we live in a wasteland I wake up to littered streets littered people and because they were littered on they try to liter on me But you see I like it clean So I recycle all the negative things you or anyone else has to throw box it up and away it goes Though it’s still hard to start a new day Waking up in a wasteland is a strain Every time I turn around it’s another set of somebody’s settling for less not giving mobility towards themselves To achieve their best People lazily waste away like an apple on the desk of unmotivated teachers watching students decay This land is your land this land is my land is one of the many mottos for this nation Which if you never paid attention is how this nation works if you have something I want and can't defend it it’s rightfully mine And everything starts with one One selfrighteous man who decided he was above all A young girl on her way home from school Unaware of her unwanted shadow A remnant of a man possessed by his forefather Christopher Columbus Eyes locked on her innocence like a lioness to her prey Her body Snatched and claimed as his own. Uncaring of her kicking screams of refusal Having to give into the whims of a soul thief as did so many before her. His apprehension non existent Churches on every street selling salvation from damnation Women drop it low quicker than leaves in the fall and respect is what they expect People contributing attitudes extend limbs for handouts. For sell on corners Men sell nickel bags of momentary peace While women on corners solicitate relief standing on their icy edges of glory scattering towards any passerby like pigeons to bread crumb. Population growing and dying at the same rate. Everyday hope for a catastrophic flood of enlightenment To wash away the charade Created to disorient us on what’s going on And the wonderful actors none other than the republican government. Republican government means a system of appointed officials called upon to represent the public so we feel like we have say in political issues when in fact we don’t Don’t believe me? Ask yourselves who represents every victim of a crime giving a “voice” or “justice”. And who is representing the child The child trying to escape and break the chains ingrown in his skin by his ancestry despite eternal pain not distracted by all these pain not distracted by all these eye strains. Who find his own path out of this cave of despair holding no fear for the haters behind him trying to consume his brain…….. Our offices are now closed please call back during regular business hours. Thank you! Ugh.....!! In this wasteland it’s everyman for himself
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.