What Rough Beast | Poem for November 1, 2017

Melissa Rendlen
Cry Country

I am no refugee,

yet cry for my country.

It bleeds from self-inflicted wounds
torn with a jagged knife wielded by elected officials
more self-serving than selfless.

Bludgeoned by haters
who use fear as their tool,
pervert patriotism to divide,
divide to destroy.

Half against half, democracy the victim.

Freedom dies when opinion is outlawed.

It is not our flag that is important
but the ideals for which it stands.

I weep on bended knee.

 

Melissa Rendlen’s poems appear in GFT Press, L’ephemere, Ink in Thirds, Rising Phoenix Review, Still Crazy, and Writing Raw, and is a previous contributor to What Rough Beast. She has also been a Tupelo Press 30/30 poet and her chapbook received honorable mention in a recent Concrete Wolf chapbook contest . She has been a practicing Urgent Care physician for thirty-seven years and lives in Michigan City, Indiana.

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