As damp November,
Misty morns, slowly become
Crisp December dawns,
How can we begin to heal
Fractured families
And reunite feuding friends
Once in harmony
When the Fracturer-in-Chief
Still Fraks the beds of hatred?
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As damp November,
Misty morns, slowly become
Crisp December dawns,
How can we begin to heal
Fractured families
And reunite feuding friends
Once in harmony
When the Fracturer-in-Chief
Still Fraks the beds of hatred?
Good question.
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Especially with the resulting climate where any criticism from the center left is cast as either childish whining or unreasonable impatience by the alt-right sound machine.
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I feel so helpless. And a bit subversive.
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Add angry and frustrated and move the “a bit” from before subversive to helpless and you have a good read on my emotional state. Lots of fear for the inevitable conflict to come. I see a repeat of Watts and Harlem and Detroit in the mid sixties again. And I have ZERO faith that there will be a voice of calm from the White House.
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Calm and trump are polar opposites. And I fear that you are right.
Keep writing. We can be the voices of dissent. I’m just going to some really dark places right now. Some of them may be too dark for my blog. 😳
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I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t change the name of my blog back when things were looking brighter!
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