Open Wounds

I live in a nation wounded by insults cheered as entertainment turned toxic yet amplified by media as newsworthy

A place where truth itself is pierced by a barrage of lying arrows reaching the targeted ears of the vulnerable ripe for distortion

My country where many exchange a mythical America for reality, a noose around the neck of the strength of who we are together

A place where justice lies bleeding internally from repeated blows to the body of laws that once guided right and wrong and where wrongdoers now go unpunished

I mourn the 300,000 American deaths from a poisoned freedom that interprets freedom as a right to expose others to a deadly virus that knows no party and thrives on mythical thinking

This nation where a thousand cuts from the sharpened knives of racism, bigotry, xenophobia, and homophobia cover the bodies of the unemployed, environmentally poisoned, and food insecure everyday

My country where democracy itself remains on the chopping block with its spinal cord severed and a court of law blocking its final end.  For now.

I live in a nation where leaders cower in silent fear of the ruthless Trump Twitter pistol firing lethal rhetorical bullets at any righteous voice that dares to oppose him

So, who will rescue my nation in this final hour?  Who will bind our collective wounds with music, art, healing words, truth, kindness, and love for ourselves and others? Who will defend our nation by all means necessary?

The answer must be we ourselves

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