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  • Writer's pictureFrank Romans


You are stripped of all that made you great,

or was it ever true?

Vitriolic hate and anger, spittle-spewing rage,

Go from me!

Leave me to my desperate anguish where the sadness engulfs me,

I no longer recognize what you have become.

We called you exceptional and looked the other way

while you allowed, even encouraged the cruel mistreatment of your people,

those you deemed not the full measure of a man, not white or light enough.

Go from me!

I am powerless and frustrated at what you do.

I no longer recognize what you have become.

You made great strides to change we thought,

and cheered for wrongs now righted,

A conscience surfaced, after all, welcomed and delighted.

But underneath that seeming good, still hidden from our view,

the loathing, hate still moldered there,

and now begins anew.

Some would take us back in time to fill their lust for power

while leading fools who blindly follow, laughing at their ignorance

as they plummet off the looming cliff ahead united in their hate

of others, not like them, unacceptable differences.

Go from me!

I no longer recognize what you have become.

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