November 9, 2016

No one asks you
how you are holding up
Because
It hasn't been 24 hours
Since you lost
Your country
In a car wreck
And the driver who leveled
Your sanity is
Wildly waving at you
His Eyes blazing  
Red through a white hood.

And suddenly your blaming god,
Innocent street lamps,
Other drivers who just happened
To be driving around.

And this mad man he's still
Careening down a freeway from
New york to Washington
From Washington to Russia
Flaming orange hair whipping
The air into submission.

You're left with a choice
To gather remnants
Of what you once loved
And piecing that with the
Hope in another. 
It's hard work
but you eventually
Find a way to
Remember
How great we are
When we come together.