Independence Day.
Celebrate.
Do we know why
we’re proud to be
American
any
more?
My brother and sisters tears can be
found in the burroughs next to your hills.
In chalk outlines.
In oil hikes.
My brothers and sisters tears can be
found in back alley’s crevices,
sucking for god or money,
though there’s little difference.
Found in each regret of a moment
spent
indulgent.
Found in each moment
of enjoyment.
My blood’s blood
can be found on the voter’s hands—
mostly indifferent of it.
My blood’s blood can be found
anywhere in the world–
spilled by those who have enough–
demanding too much.
Siris Reinier
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