Time is still for now
Dead as the wind
Silently lurking
Beneath the deadened leaves.
Outside is quiet with anticipation
I am sat by my window
Wondering how the hate
always seems to catch up
with the love.
Tomorrow is rich with power,
This sleep feels like a betrayal.
When the sun strikes through the blinds,
And the headlines roll through,
The sidewalks will ignite with passion.
It could be fury, I hope it’s relief.
————
Tomorrow has come, and the next day as well, I am sitting in my sorrow calling up my sister and my girl friends.
We share in our grief and anger
Our frustration, confusion, our fear.
The next day is here, still eerily warm, what if nothing can ever be the same?
What if our bodies are always nothing but a political campaign?
While my parents erupted in joy 200 miles away, I cried and I mourned in the numbing realization—corrupt men always prevail.
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