Patriotism

scribblings of a wannabe

Patriotism

It begins with a day,
a flag raised high,
a claim etched into the soil�"
a possession of hearts and histories.

But what is it to bind yourself
to a piece of earth?
To belong�"
isn’t it to be loved?
Yet, why not belong to the world,
where love knows no borders?

They fight over lines unseen,
threads spun by ancient hands,
woven into maps of division.
I watch and wonder:
what is a wall,
if not a keeper of fear?
What is a boundary,
if not a forgetting
of what lies beyond?

We build, we defend, we hold.
But to what end?
It’s like feasting to survive
and forgetting the hunger
that first made us whole.