Like everyone, my brain has been occupied by all the ridiculous political antics I see populating my news feed. I cast no judgment on any one group or person—the whole system reminds me more of the movie Idiocracy than 1984.
I scroll through my newsfeed and am not sure whether to laugh or cry. Instead of either, I wrote poetry.
In a Court of Clowns
In a court of clowns
a jury seeks my judgment
without knowing me.
They all think they know
because of my hair, my skin—
because they were told
what they can expect
—do/don’t trust, do/don’t like us—
these people like me.
Then you wonder why
I/Us tend not to trust you—
one of us must start.
But forgive me, please
if I don’t make the first move—
history repeats.
Still, it’s up to us…
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