Dear Mr President
Your country is hurting once more.
Blood is being spilled and
fires are burning in the name
of Nazi,
of white supremacy,
of fascism.
Where are your words of condemnation?
Where are your insightful tweets
of contempt?
One-hundred and forty characters
is enough for you to speak against
nuclear weapons and immigration.
One-hundred and forty characters
is all it takes for you to make
your hatred for Mexico known.
One-hundred and forty characters
is time enough for the words
of a leader
to speak his mind.
Your silence speaks volumes.
Your lack of action says it all.
Mister President,
can I still call you Mister President?
Is it very presidential of you
To ignore the cries for help
from your people?
Their pain is just background noise to you,
the swastika is so common to you,
the slurs are just so natural to you,
the suffering does not matter to you.
Mister President,
can I still call you Mister President?
The people chose you. Isn’t it
a great disservice to them
to ignore them when, after all,
it is you they choose to turn to?
Copyright © Han Marlowe Turner | Year Posted 2023
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