Poetry by Riley Neault ♦ Art by Mallory Milke
Welcome to our planet
Where fear has enlisted
A shift that has twisted
We’re all that’s left of what’s sifted
Pan for gold
Digging holes
From where we reach to get lifted
A world that is vicious
A vision, a mission
Of misguided priorities
Forcing restriction
A locked definition
Of what makes a minority Imaginary lines
We call them borders
In other words,
Immigration is bordering
Met with rules of conformity
Religions, we listen
Competition of what makes us superior morally?
Supposedly,
Without them…
We’d be living horribly
Would we wage war
Or would there be more to be
looks like a storm to me
And nobody’s noticing
Geography describing what’s different
Pictured benchmarks of normalcy
Keep your thoughts in the box
And if not,
That could get you deported, see
nothing can grow from a foreign seed
Genetically crafted to be owned
Nothing is yours, you are borrowing
Nothing to share
But the shares
Invested in an admissible tormenting
Hinging on doors that swing
Can’t make payments you’re poor
So that’s why they’re bulldozing
Just to build new
A stimulus promoting
Growth to a few
And nothing but rubble
All that is left after totaling
A derelict dream
Time to look for tomorrow’s sleep
And so absurd it seems
We all get in line
Just like a herd of sheep
See more art from Mallory Milke at www.Mayhemhere.etsy.com
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