The American Ideal

Sat, 05/06/2017 - 17:56 -- violist

We the people

We the people divided

We the people alienated

We the varied

We the broken.


We who break each other down

and hide behind the pieces.

We who have bled,

who’s veins run drier with each passing day

and each beat of our mangled heart.


We the people forgotten.

The people begging for nourishment

only to be trampled on

The people asking for help,

and receiving only scorn.

The people who claim to love God

but only use the bible for hate.


A dictator at the helm

of this sinking ship.

There is cotton in his ears and

stitches binding his eyes.

He knows nothing of pain.


Can’t you see the children starving?

How their bones jut out of their skin

The same way your cash bulges out

of your pristine pockets.


Can’t you see the people dying?

The barrel of a gun in your throat

Bullets rain down like candy.

Don’t speak out of turn. Don’t say anything at all.


Cultures blended into obscurity

Praise the vanilla perfection

Adoration of sameness

Don’t you dare speak ill of us.


Love thy neighbor.

What an outdated, overrated concept.

Think of yourself and only yourself

fight for your own flesh

fortify your own bones.

That is the American dream.



This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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