I’m trying to remember the
last time the U.S.A. had a good
It seems like a while ago,
really far away.
A single good day, no murders,
no shootings, no abductions, no rapes,
no theft, no shouting ignorance from
soapbox pedestals of supposed power.
I don’t remember when that was
when kids played outside all day,
when they rode their bikes to the
Every day, tragedy escalates,
every day, we see the world in flames,
the rift between human beings gaping wide
like an abyss devouring everything
that was once good.
I can’t remember the last time I
didn’t see a terrible headline,
a venomous litany of hate,
outrage over the minutia while
nothing is done about the grand.
It’s foolish to think nostalgia is
reality. The sepia colored memories
of the past are moldy photos in an
album in the attic. The now is what
matters in all its vibrant color.
Good days come when people
want to change. So we have to change
to make the new days into good days.
Stop being afraid. Stop using fear.
Stop keeping us from a good day.