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Brian's Poetry
Here are some poems about how I feel, how life is going, etcetera.
My American Nightmare
I'm pretty sure that we live on planet Earth
Where humaniods make up the sentient population.
We're one of a kind, and yet we divide.
And stay in our own separate nation.

My nation was born not 300 years ago.
The Founding Fathers, like all humaniods, dream at night.
And they dreamed an almost impossible dream.
Where freedom floods the country and everything is set right.

I wanna get my education, get some high grades.
Have a foothold in my life, make sure it never fades.
Get a job, earn some degrees, by a nice, slick and silver car.
Meet someone special, move into a house, and be sure our dreams go far.

Earn my pay, have a family of two kids and a half.
Have a backyard for the dog, tickle the children and make them laugh.
Love my wife as much as she'd love me.
Everything is perfect, and that's how it should be.

I'd walk on my way to Target, a big grin on my face.
But then I'd see a woman crying, tears running down her face.
I'd ask her, "What's wrong? What are you crying for?".
She looked up and told me, "My husband died in a recent war."

And then I wake up.

Why won't people face the fact
That this is reality, it is no act.
When people die, they won't come back.
No matter what you think, you can be sure of that.

I was born into a nation where being who you are can be a sin.
People dicriminate you by color, orientation, gender, and how you feel within.
I can only laugh in bitterness when others laugh at me with a terrible joy.
And they point at me and say, just loud enough, "Hey, white boy!"

As if I had no name.

I've been subject to a lack of acception.
I have a reputation for death by deception.
Our nation's leaders have been rumored to have fallen to corruption.
And why, in our country of so-called "equality" is there so much dicrimination?

The insults I hear are more painful
Than being ripped apart by a Gatling.
Rejection, always constant, always there.
To be sure that when I cry, I am not acting.

We fight our own kind with nuclear weapons.
We blast nations up and into the heavens.
Where God can only look down at us and shake his head.
I think he also knows that by the end of the world, we'd all be dead.

I just wish He wouldn't let us be responsible for our own destruction.
Dying by intoxication, screaming in our horrible creation
Of a living damnation that can't be stopped.
Only one solution, and that's divine intervention.

Help us, Father, help us! Or are you just a myth
Created to give us something to believe in?
Well, the only thing I'm believing here
Is that that the world is tearing itself apart, my heart is full of fear.

I'll pray to every entity I've ever known
I don't care who it is, just make it stop!
My life, my world, is crashing around me like breaking glass.
My hope and desperation is the only thing I got.

Will the bombs ever stop falling?
Will Death stop arriving at a gun's calling?
I don't know, and probably never will know, the answer.
But these questions are eating away at me like an incurable cancer.

These disasters happening around me
Are more than I can possibly bear.
I'm scared to awake from my American Dream
To open my eyes to an American Nightmare.





 
 
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