In the eternity since judgment day
We’ve watched the one we loved, who used to stand
Parental over us, go pale and gray,
Slackened and stooped inside a yellow skin;
The presidency is our patient now,
Preyed upon by the thing that’s slithered in;
And, worn with care ourselves and sick with grief,
A young country grown old in just a year,
We grope for remedies we pray will work
Though justice turns at speeds we cannot bear
And gives us time to contemplate the worst:
What if the real America is this?
The time is now to choose what we will be:
So vote, and say it loud: we will be free.
Words: Sheila M. Averbuch
Image: Widowed by Blake Lipthratt on Flickr