I woke up this morning and found the wound
Was larger than I thought
The bruise had bloomed and ballooned,
Burbled and burst, oozing white hot – live action Montserrat.
A primal scream then lodged itself deep inside my throat,
With parted lips aching to shout – only a gurgle and sputter eked out,
I pointed to him frantically – the wolf attired in scapegoat skins,
But I was just a downed spitfire, launched into a tailspin.
With one eye open, I stopped to examine the tear,
Shaking – afraid of what I might find there,
It was work so painstaking – pulling back the many layers,
But then I was surprised to find only whispers of soft and fearful prayers.
See somewhere along the way we left them behind,
Forgot to listen, forgot to bring them on our ride,
Forgot their families, attacked them handily,
For backwoods faith and ideals of community,
For blue collar jobs in a land of opportunity,
Forgot their education and then treated them stupidly,
This, this is how we killed unity,
Acting like cancer patients without immunity,
Treating them like filoviridae – no impunity.
So if, if we want to make repairs,
See past the hate, stare down the crosshairs,
We have to begin here at the bottom of the laceration,
Begin where the discourse first lapsed into stagnation,
Begin at the base of alienation,
Begin with love as our declaration.