The Worst Day
“Isn’t it great to be an American?” they say.
And it is, today, it is great to be an American.
I saw the colored whipped by chains.
Chains the colors red, white, and blue.
I saw a shattered heart
Whose mother ate a bullet,
Whose father is now merely an image of broken misery.
I saw a man cradle a dying child in his arms,
She whimpered, “I just wanted to live at least once.”
I did nothing.
“We can learn from the past!” They say.
But learning can’t bring Them back from their eternal rests.
So be furious.
We can try to forget,
Attempt to let the memory errode and scurry…
Just like the leftover dust that no longer resides
At the base of the twin towers.
But They won’t forget.
Is a new day.
Was the worst day.
I will forget the worst day,
And pretend that America was built on freedom.