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    Poetry,  Works

    An Idea of Tomorrow

    Pencil drop,A teacher providesOut of pocket.It’s their own dime. Yet, passed amidst discord,She cannot see nor sneerUpon such meager coin.She holds too dearWithout fearHer own dime. Now is the timeTo live…WITHIN our timeTo see that which plaguesOr fellow’s friendAnd to welcome thoseWho learn strifeIs always the day’s bitter end. Why not be better?We are better. Open our arms.Open your arms.Do not let inequity ruleNor the golden houseOnce white fallTo this gilded flameOf populist rancor Fueled By a divide bled between us.…