Legacy

Some days are a mixture of beauty and pain
with no word sufficient to finally explain
the glorious sky on a star lit night
nor the agony felt at the terrible sight
of suffering that leaves an indelible stain,
our triumph and trauma, in which we maintain
this impossible notion that somehow we might
save ourselves from the oncoming plight.

What words do we use to justify
the heartless acts and political lies
as children are torn from their parents’ arms,
the innocent ones who can cause no harm,
who live in fear and nightly cry
for love that we so glibly deny?
Is there no one who senses with growing alarm
the immoral depths of this hideous storm?

We have created a legacy stained with shame
as we play a grotesque, political game,
in which we abuse little helpless ones,
locking away our daughters and sons
as if they were part of a heinous scheme
to destroy the grand American dream.
What kind of nation would allow this done?
The answer, my friend:  a soulless one.