I was made in America.

My grandfather is a veteran.

My father black.

My mother white.

I am from a bloodline of freedom fighters.

I was packaged,

Weighed,

And shoved

on a shelf in America.

Born,

Lived,

And raised in America.

We are so America

That we create machines

To make machines

That spit out even

more machines.

 

I would kill for America

Tear up foreign ground

Run with legs that only go

Around and around

 

 

It’s a merry go round

Crystaline colors

Only meant to

Counfound.

 

I was made

In America.

And will die

In America.

Despite my struggle

Against mass hysteria

And the deep dark puddle

That plagues America.

 

Who is America?

The man on the subway

Who can't seem to get a job

To pay

Or the little black girl

Whose image of

distorted

Skin

Is cracked and

Contorted?

 

Am I America?

A woman who

Sees mass conundrum,

In a nation whose walls

Weren't built to withstand

A fiery

Asunder.

 

I was made in America

But I don't want to

Stay in America.

The truth is relative.

Death is an allusion.

And fear is only in your mind

In America.

Or is it?

 

The walls that trap me

Are America,

Yet I shut my eyes

To the obvious demise

Because if you cut me,

I bleed

Red

White

And blue

 

The prison walls that haunt me

Are red,

White, and

Blue.

I stay in confinement

Because America demands it

And those that defy America

End up dead

In America

On soil that is riddled with

Patriots lead.

 

So please,

On behalf of those

Trapped in an

Esoterica

Enjoy your stay in America.