Poems,  Works

An Idea of Tomorrow

Pencil drop,
A teacher provides
Out of pocket.
It’s their own dime.

Yet, passed amidst discord,
She cannot see nor sneer
Upon such meager coin.
She holds too dear
Without fear
Her own dime.

Now is the time
To live…WITHIN our time
To see that which plagues
Or fellow’s friend
And to welcome those
Who learn strife
Is always the days bitter end.

Why not be better?
We are better.

Open our arms.
Open your arms.
Do not let inequity rule
Nor the golden house
Once white fall
To this gilded flame
Of populist rancor

Fueled

By a divide bled between us.

Remember first who we are.
American First?
That is the nearest forethought?

We are better than this

What else have we forgotten,
But ourselves
That can soak up this blood
This fracture
In this beautiful country

So plain and clear, felt afar?

The desire

For something…better
For our children
For our neighbor
For our friend
For our parents
And yes for all of us.

Now is the plea,

Reach and resist
Hand to hand
Distance be damned
For something better

For all of us.

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