I find myself standing in a crowded room, screaming at the top of my lungs “stop” and nobody can hear me. Our house is falling apart all around me and I can’t move. Each brick falling to the floor, the shingles peeling away bit by bit, so slow that I seem to be the only one to notice. That’s how it feels watching President Trump destroy America and all it stands for.
The Statue of Liberty, which dawns the shores of New York, the very place Trump calls home, has no meaning to him. A gift to the people of the United States from the people of France. She is a symbol of hope and freedom for immigrants, or she used to be. Maybe it is time for a reminder of what she stands for.
“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me.
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”
Immigration and Mexico were the first to crumble on the place we call home. Then with each insult, another brick falls… Germany, France, Britain, and even Cuba. With each tweet that follows they are recycled and placed in the “wall” that Trump insists on building. To fill the cracks in the wall he tears away at the shingles, soft lumber, and the Canadian economy. Working slowly and surely at making Canada an enemy. Leaving so many holes in the roof, the rain is wearing away at the remainder of the home.
As we all scramble to wrap ourselves in black garbage bags to stay dry, Trump is handing out yellow raincoats to only those who swore allegiance to him and kicking those out with no shelter who stand against him. As we stand in the rain the yellow raincoats approach, tearing our garbage bags away one by one. Removing healthcare from those who desperately need it. Taking away patriotism from the and making them feel like second-hand citizens because they chose to make a life change that does not fit in with “”. Encouraging hate against all Muslims not just terrorists.
As the days go on he sits in his big white house and plays golf care free on his green grass, as the rot continues to climb the drywall of our home. Our children running around on the brown dry ground with no hope for a brighter future. Soon to have no place to call home, they will have to conform to tales of how great America used to be. How at one time America was working towards peace, equality, and prosperity. How we worked to lead the world in climate change to ensure the generations to come would have green grass and clean air. Ending our tales with “sorry we let you down by voting for Trump.”
How does the future look to you?
Writer, Blogger, Mother