Abandoned Abroad

I don’t have a country.

The annoying orange has occupied an office that was intended for someone with even a thread of moral fiber.


I don’t have a home.

The one I knew collapsed into a chaos of bipartisan shouting matches.

A society where good deeds and valid ideas don’t count unless you post them on social media.

A government violating the people, forsaking the people, determined to pull the bigotry-soaked red, white and blue bandana over our eyes.


A nation so preoccupied by the latest radical executive orders, that we’re blind to the more forboding and lasting measures being slipped through the iron bars of Congress.

A nation that has officially discredited anything seen as “other”.

A hypocritical nation completely oblivious to it’s past: Founded by rejects and religious refugees, yet now unwilling to accept them.


A country I’m no longer proud to call home, but a place where I must now sheepishly admit to having been born.


A place I hope in my heart of hearts will prove unworthy of this shame,

will fight back to right the wrongs,

will work to mend the gaping wound spewing red and blue all over our butchered nation.


But seeing the steps forward we made

and how we’ve regressed

leaves me little hope

for future progress.

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