Scared

I'm scared. 

I'm scared of thinking that our president 
might not be able to right wrongs
and heal a 
divided land. 

I'm scared for our country,
of what some have stood and fought for. 

I'm scared that the color of a person's skin
can conjure up immense hatred—
hatred that should not be there, 
because we are all the same species.
And shouldn't animals of the same species 
help each other thrive?
Want to keep each other alive?

I'm scared because some
are scared that love can be different.
But that doesn't make it ugly, or untrue. 
It makes it beautiful in its own way. 

I'm scared of the lies that have been
thrown around with such carelessness,
seeping into the minds of thousands. 

I'm scared for immigrants,
like my grandparents,
traveling to our country 
in search of promised
hope. 

I'm scared that our planet is going to
burn itself alive—
all because we were too
ignorant
and reluctant
to listen to its flaming screams
and last dying breaths.

I'm scared of going outside
because it can cost a life. 

I'm scared because we're alone,
and only time can return to us
what we've lost.