Je Suis

I am plagued with routine regret
at a bedside where I exhale in the arms
of a refuge that heal tired eyes, yet neglect the
many homeless souls who wake only
to news of explosions and fear and

God, why must our allies constantly
face a potential warzone we know
so little about? I wake without nightmares
while many across the world carry them
like ghosts picking up shotgun shells.

They, in the midst of blissful
celebrations, while I celebrated
my misery.

Three national days of prayers will
soon begin, yet do the prayers ever
stop being shouted to a higher power
that we crave will tuck our children
in at night, nurse the sick back to
health?

Mr. President, you urge Nice to
not give into terrorism yet admit
we live in an era where we live
among it... when will this end?
Must we accept this fear?
After how many generations bleed
on the streets, thrashing around
like shot, commonplace pigeons.

The hospitals, moaning, while
city officials meet the wounded
and mothers and daughters and
sons see no hope amongst their
blood-stained eyelids.

- Innocence is caught in the
crossfire of a world gone mad -

I am only a silhouette of solidarity,
but I won't forget that you are kneeling
begging all forms of God for some
peace...

And here I lay, curled up in yesterday's
laundry, cursing my government for the foolish
use of taxes in this grand city that isolates

me

from

you.