DIRGE OF A BATTERED NATION
For this, the clay grew tall?
I think as political landscapes crumble
As the fast food employee,
with a college degree,
Into the vision of empty factories and shattered glass
Into cafes where no longer,
We talk with one another.
Into fist fights that end in shootings and knifings
Born into this?
Into hospitals so expensive, it’s cheaper to die
Into a land that shakes with explosions
And vibrates with each war cry
Walking and living through this
Dying because of this
The republica fell,
and the clay grew tall