Uncategorized

You Did Nothing to Deserve to Be an American – A Poem

Our soul.
  Our spirit.
      Our consciousness.
The brain in which it manifests.
Our body’s ability.
                      It’s color.
                          It’s language.
Announces a victor without a test.

The champion of a game of chance.
Taking claim over it’s bounty
time
       and
             time again.
You, yourself, yes you, my friend,
did ( nothing ) to deserve to be an American.

Winning the socioeconomic
genetic lottery looks like this:
                   White
                American
                    Man
But those who buy – a single ticket –
have more claim over
                   what
                   they
                   win
than you, yes you, my friend,
have over being born an American.

As winner of this lottery,
were your ancestors
                    kidnapped,
                             beaten,
                                    bleeding,
                                          and enslaved?
Likely not, as this game
does not reward it’s players
with reparations for their pain.

Odds are your people
were refugees themselves.
Dreamers
         d.r.e.a.m.i.n.g
                         dreams.
They stole land with the
blood,
     tears,
          and – screams –
of those who
              natively
                      r o a m e d.
We’re lucky all immigrants
aren’t like us and
only want a
       place to
            ( safely )
                      call
                         home.

An undeserved entitlement
killing the natural progression of a nation.
We’re drawing a line,
            connecting
               the
                  dots
                    between
                    • detention,
                    • internment,
                    • & concentration.

The American Dream is in the dark
with no light shining onto it’s door.
The masses
we’ve huddled
              into cages.
              Forgotten
              Hungry.
              And Poor.

We would have no country at all
if not for undocumented immigration.
You, yourself, yes you, my friend,
did ( nothing ) to deserve to be an American.


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