Dear America
It's not your birthday
But I just want to say
We're doing our best
Out here, behind our screens
Behind our hate and misery
We who are not seen
We're doing our best
To fill you up
With the things that make life meaningful
If we don't get credit for trying
We should still try
Because it's worth it
Whether it seems like it or not.
Let's not point fingers
Let's rise up instead
Try to forget the past
And not wish we hadn't done those things
But do good ones 
Make up for it
Instead.
Dear America,
Liberty, Justice, and Love 
Are trying to grow,
You're trying to flourish
So we'll try to help you
Along the way
What do you say?
Let's rise up together
Let's rise up today.

I won't write about
sunsets painted on tree canopies
or how the horizon is aglow with flames,
I won't write about the spiced apple cidar
and the cinnamon of my childhood.
Autumn is not those sensations,
not those memories,
not to me at least.

Autumn was the start of a school year,
eagerly awaiting my friends
and the joy they brought me daily.
It was the community
and the unity
that made it my favorite time.
It was morning walks
with my nose turning red
and the sky still dark,
but everything was still bright and fun
with laughter and conversation.
It was leaving school late after rehearsals,
throats raw
and knees red.

It was squishing into the same booth
at the same restauraunt
and debating about what appetizers to get.
It was not having enough money in my bank account,
but not caring
because spending time with friends was priceless.

Oh velvet black keyboard
you span my mind for miles,
rolling up and down waves
of imagination, you ride that
perfect endless sea.
Oh not quite good enough
half crumpled paper you have
the inner cogs laid out ready to 
click click, and assemble.
Don't bother with that pink 

pencil end you, are immaculate.
Slip on that sonnet and dance
under a sky I made for you,
maybe tomorrow you will 
pull on your best rondeau just
for me. Finally let your wild
spider spun hair flow free and
tear off your iron shoes nobody
really liked that much anyway. 
Those headphones,

Confidently they tell you the
story of The Cure and XTC as
your fingers skate their way across
letters, making magic like
a pianist makes magic, like a 
magician makes magic. 
No one can dare say that
moonlit pond no one
even understands how it
got there, was anything less

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