What They Say

Well-meaning friends say it will be okay:
“It’s tough, we know. We’ve lost these votes ourselves.
Two thousand eight’s was rough enough,”
they say,
“But that was silk compared to twenty-twelve’s!
Turn off the cable news, and you’ll be fine.
You’ll realize the White House occupant
Will hardly touch your life. It didn’t mine!
Eight years will fly–you’ll wonder where they went!”

What they don’t get is, I’m not under threat.
I’m privileged by race, and gender, too;
Religion’s hidden (so far). Here’s a bet:
If you’re for Trump, I look a lot like you.
So, I’m not in the crosshairs–not today.
“Relax. This, too, shall pass.” That’s what they say.

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About Michael

Silliness is good
This entry was posted in poetry, sonnet and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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