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It Will Take Decades to Fix What These Republicans Have Destroyed
I kneel by the ash heap of my country,
pulling out the charred bones of laws
once tender with purpose. A womb,
a book, a vote—each gutted clean
by men in ties who grin as they light
the match, who quote scripture
as forests burn and children cry
in cages built from policy.
My daughter will not inherit
a peace I once believed in.
She will patch what I could not protect—
clean air, clean water, a truth
without spin, a touch without price.
Her hands will be calloused,
her hope hard-earned.
It is not that we lost something.
It is that they took it and smiled.
Copyright ©
James Mclain
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