Bald Eagle Shockwaves
By Kerry O’Sullivan (16), Dominican College, Drumcondra, Dublin
Photograph: Olivier Douliery-Pool/Getty Image
the sky this morning seemed endlessly grey
grim clouds stretched out and mouths moved with nothing to say
my sister cried and the bus driver sighed as the bald eagle pecked their faces
feeling nothing but pity for people living in places
where their safety is compromised for the promise of green paper
a woman’s life being controlled by someone that hates her.
all the women in me are tired
at the thought of america’s youth being inspired
by someone that boasts about groping and rape and assault.
i’m the woman that worried she’ll see a white cop shoot her child on the street
i’m the woman that worries who hates her of everyone she meets
who voted to have her leave her country.
i’m the boy, retreating back into the closet
he had been on the cusp of self-acceptance
but now he knows he cannot trust in human kindness
i am the boy who just came to terms with being a boy
that has to retreat into a shell that was never him
told to act beautiful and ladylike and prim.
i am the child trapped behind a wall
whether it’s there or metaphorical
he lives with the reality that his classmates wanted it.
i am the black woman who crosses the road at a support trump sign
the one who had to hold her children as they cried
with fear for their lives last night.
donald trump wasn’t born out of thin air
he is a product of privilege
representing the world we’re living in
showing us that the nation of the free
longs to go back 50 years in history.
showing us that education obliterates ignorance
and it’s clear to me in this instance
america, you are in a vicious cycle
of hate and ridiculousness in the name of the bible.
so donald, this is your idea of making america great again.
all you’re doing is letting america hate again.