Mostly I feel that I don’t like poetry.
But then why do I have this urge to write it?
It’s kind of like those times when you have dreams that baffle you. I dream about math sometimes. I don’t do math regularly, so why would I dream about it?
Well, despite my mixed feelings of poetry, here’s my latest:
I’ll be the deejay, you emcee,
I live in the west, the land of the free,
Party on the border, kick the wall into the sea.
I’m the deejay, my party’s a musical one,
Divisive politics don’t look like fun,
Potential friends become enemies you shun.
Political cowards want to hide behind a wall,
Afraid that immigrants will make their country fall,
Unaware of how many went there at the sound of freedom’s call.
The freedom you enjoy is something you can share,
Open your mind to consider,
Open your heart to care,
If you can’t give up the space, then spread libertad…over there.
Not a matter of how, it’s a matter of when,
The politically “active” will take action, and then,
Make Central America Great Again.
Xenosthesia.com 