My Country Tears for Thee

In a time of maximum disruption,
ideological corruption,
panegyric seduction,
we stagger through with uncertain thoughts,
where chaos deliberately wrought,
And politicians are bought.
My country tears of thee,
in this era of uncertainty,
we search with urgency,
as they dispatch modernity.
In this nightmare clothed in mystery,
scouring and shredding history,
aiming for wounds of deepest injury.
In this age of purposefully misinforming storytelling,
fractured myths upswelling,
and doubt becomes compelling.
Not for the years that will pass,
nor rivers that will flow,
not for subway cars that will be filled,
nor buses that will not be stilled.
Will history be gone?
Will the people will move on?
Memorials will mark the missing’s names,
and families will grieve with quiet flames.
My country tears for thee,
In truth giving way to undeserved glory,
Camus’ Sisyphus pushing on,
Marx’s surplus long withdrawn.
Skinny obituaries,
uncelebrated visionaries.
Single mothers, grocery clerks,
teachers, nurses, farmworkers, meat packers,
the unseen soul of who we are,
Will they be crushed by the evil and bizarre.
Not for the cars that crowd bridges,
nor games resumed on dusty fields.
Not for the trees in leaf again,
nor gardens blooming after rain.
Not for the calls to just “move on,”
Cheer on the people who resist.
From every mountainside.
Let freedom ring.
My country tis of thee.
My country tears for thee.

This article was posted on Sunday, May 4th, 2025 at 8:00am and is filed under Poetry.