A Violet Nation

January 3, 2018

The steel stitches are rusting,
For what was once a watercolor silhouette,
Is now a spread of broken glass.

It is divided by red and blue magnets,
Campaigning to lure shards over to their side,
Set on opposite sides of the basic moral balance,
And for short moments, they appear to be at a standoff.

For when looked at through the right spectacles,
Violet blinds quiet eyes.

Urbane foxes,
Weaseling their way through the tightest adhesives.
Turning bear against his cub,
And sun against his stars.

Ice skating over the façade of morality,
Leaving trails of skate-marks after each hostile remark.

To think to clot such cuts would not justify,
For the injury to the sleuth and the stars,
Is a price more costly than war.

It is held in the innermost cells of the heart,
That even the steel from a dual-layered shield
Can't mend such broken art,
But we must remember,
Who we were from the start.
For America is a colored rainbow,
And those colors are more beautiful when not kept apart.






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