Social Justice Poetry

In Trump’s America | A Social Justice Poem by Dale Champlin

As children we sang, “Oh beautiful for spacious skies,” to America.
Imagining our superiority, we knew nothing but lies about America.

We were so innocent, we didn’t know we were great.
We were so young, we were proud to pledge allegiance to America.

We stood by our desks and put our hands over our first grade hearts.
Now that we are older we clench our fists at Trump’s America.

We can’t understand why blue-collar workers put their trust in him.
Our president scoffs at laws, doesn’t pay taxes, and gets rich off America.

While Trump postures behind a curtain of privilege—
the drug addicted and homeless pass out in the streets of America.

He back combs his pompadour, bullies his opponents and incites our enemies,
taunts, twitters and is ignorant about the history of America.

Each night we go to bed, thinking it can’t get any worse—
but every morning it has. I guess we were wrong about America.

I know missiles are pointed at our capitol, the rust belt and me.
In the land of the brave, how can I be brave if I don’t feel safe in America?

We build fences, break promises and turn our backs on climate change.
It’s no wonder the whole world has lost faith in America.

Try to breathe all this red and white smoke until you turn blue—
amid forest fires and hurricanes, children are hungry right here in America

While the rich get richer the poor can’t afford an education.
Our nation is divisible by money, race and gender here in America.

When sincerity is a thing of the past how do we know what is true?
But half of us still buy the lies about our great again America.

How can children at church or school be used for target practice?
How did we get here we wonder? Fearing the worst, we weep for America.


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