Haunted Freedom

Lady Liberty’s ghost haunts these hallowed halls.
Leaders line their own pockets, ignoring any calls.
The people weep and gnash their teeth, begging for new light,
But all the windows are cloaked in shrouds and shut against our plight.
A disembodied voice upon the wind, her wail.
She sees the downtrodden endure travail:
Children parted from their mothers,
Punished for merely being “others.”
All the leaders turn away
Wearing masks to shield their shame.
Lady Liberty’s ghost won’t rest,
Her troubled shade a constant guest
At the tables resplendent of the greedy
Who feast on plenty and shun the needy.
She bids her sister Justice, rise
And unfold the swift demise
Of those who swore to serve our lands
But only made deals with bloody hands.
Take heed of how this specter passes,
Guardian angel of the masses.
Lady Liberty’s ghost is mourning
Freedom in peril, she gives us warning.

Chani Zwibel is a graduate of Agnes Scott College, a poet, wife and dog-mom who was born and raised in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, but now dwells in Marietta, Georgia. She enjoys writing poetry after nature walks and daydreaming. Read other articles by Chani.