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The Way Things Are
There is acid
In our raindrops,
Poverty in our cities,
And “fake” printed
On every tabloid
In this nation.
There are cigarette butts
Abandoned among grass blades
And embedded in sidewalks.
Unpaid bills
Collecting on counters
Starving stomachs,
Thirsty lips,
Broken hearts,
And tear-stained faces.
Our futures may be uncertain;
Our past inconsistent
But there is a tomorrow
Endless shades of red, white, and blue
Pride caramelized in our eyes,
Determination written on our palms,
And soul in our every step.
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