It was a decision that we made,
Not completely but many the same.
A voice came together and shouted
That our kingdom should be held accounted,
Should stand alone and rule alone,
Should keep our pride tied to the throne.
That we should give our love and guidance
To only one, and we picked a side and
Civilly war against our families
And in the middle we collapse entirely.
—————————————–
It was a decision that we made,
That we should all have our say,
That each of us had something to give
And that allegiance made us somewhat captive
To a decision made by a forced group mind
Turning us against our kingdom, ‘our kind’.
We fall apart, on buses, on channels,
Creating our own television and radio panels
On exactly why each other is less than us
And in the middle we regretfully remain nonplussed.
—————————————
It was a decision that we made I suppose
That all these fights that we have proposed
Have left us miserable, scared, waiting and wanting to sink,
For now we are cowards for not knowing what to think.
We are cowards for thinking of each other,
For reminding ourselves of sisters and brothers.
The things you taught us of loyalty and love
Are not important to anyone else above
For these do not matter to the other side
And in the middle, it’s clear you have no pride.
—————————————–
But I do have pride, a pride for each person.
I have hope that we will come back to care soon
For each other as we fought to pretend,
A hope that these schemes will soon end
And a knowledge of this forgotten future
Were we sow the seeds into this rotten manure
Of the history books that will simply read
‘Humans died because that’s what humans need’.
And so, yes, I choose to watch, I choose to fear
Because in the middle I am making sure I remain
And I see…
People Clear.
Author’s Notes: My father is heavily into politics. Growing up he would take me with him to his party meetings, I would help stick flyers in envelopes and deliver them around in our area before and after school. Somehow, despite this, my sister and I grew up to feel uncomfortable with politics and explaining to my dad why was and still is hard. After an argument between us, in which I failed to explain my side and he believed I had no opinion on politics at all, I went upstairs and wrote this poem. Finally. I felt my dad understood my side. I’m a writer and I want to remain somewhat open-minded but it doesn’t mean I don’t care. If you’re into politics, like my dad, then great– you do you. But don’t assume other, quieter people, aren’t thinking about it too. We’re just less vocal, that’s all.
The Literary Onion 