exhaustedA Poem by Rana Adalwolfa SimonA poem written out of exhaustion and frustration. I usually don't get political or socially critical in my writing, but had to get it out somehow.I'm exhausted by causes preached left and right. Voices resounding and pounding my mind while I'm trying to blend, just grounding my head in some calm. No white lies or black tears, drown my ears to block out all the shouting. Can we simply be living? Humanity screaming, burned building keep falling, shots ringing, and all we can do to keep safe is keep hiding, not in fear but in caring and loving our neighbors. But freedom fighters learned nothing, repeating the death and denying the causes. Called flawless but lawless, lining streets full of cars, blocking lifelines for fellow Americans and calling it liberty. Are you kidding me? Come clean and admit it was never a national thing, just a vendetta to bring back your casual shopping. Fighting freedom's your thing, selfish first, then maybe the suffering can have a reprieve, some rest from your incessant demanding. You value convenience over others' well-being. You can live at a minimum, but mistake pride for self-serving self-inflicted misery. Don't you see the death toll rising, understand that isolating is the best solution to end the dying? A beating heart means more than crisp bills fresh for spending, but from your way of thinking, this cause you're crusading, the cash lining your pockets outweighs the value of gravesites lining city alleyways. Look, I get your frustration, feeling useless, impatient, breaking routine isn't our style. But when duty comes calling it's unforgiving, whether fighting nations or sickness, on foreign shores or our own, picking battles within only weakens, bickering leaves us dividing and being conquered, not conquering. Is that the kind of freedom you're looking for? There's no guessing what we could have done better, just preparing for another wave and wanting nothing but a quick recovery, for everything and everyone to make it out still breathing. And so I'm pleading as I live and breathe, try putting the lives over liberty like our grandparents did, living ration to ration for the good of the country. Put your passion toward helping this world to keep living. The dollars will start flowing and the traffic will start moving once our hands are clean enough for holding steering wheels and loved ones again. But first the sickness must stop spreading and we must be strong enough to hold back, pause the damage we're causing. And that's a cause worth fighting for. © 2020 Rana Adalwolfa SimonAuthor's Note
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2 Reviews Added on April 21, 2020 Last Updated on April 21, 2020 Tags: protests, frustration, slam poetry, covid19 AuthorRana Adalwolfa SimonAboutWriting is both my profession and hobby. I hope to have a novel or two published before I die, hopefully far before then. I enjoy poetry and short stories, and novels are both a personal passion and s.. more..Writing
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