Unfinished
Unfinished
They gather in shadow beyond the monuments,
no longer chiseled names, but men again,
haunted by what they see,
each bearing the weight of his vision now worn.
Washington stands first,
his hands once steady on the reins of power,
now clenched as he watches
factions twist the unity he bled for,
a farewell ignored,
his warning a whisper beneath the roar.
Jefferson walks among the wires and screens,
half-proud, half-ashamed,
he sees his words engraved on school walls,
but the man he was
and the contradictions he lived
echo louder than his eloquence,
freedom for some,
chains for others –
still not resolved.
Hamilton paces,
delighted by the banks,
the market,
the surge of commerce,
but his eyes narrow
at greed mistaken for greatness,
debt wielded like chains,
ambition without virtue.
Madison sits with the Constitution open on his lap.
His fingers trace the parchment,
now frayed by loopholes and lobbying.
He wonders if balance was ever possible
if checks and compromises can still hold
when power no longer blushes.
Adams stares sternly.
His pride in law and order tested,
he sees opinion swallowed by outrage,
civility crushed beneath celebrity,
a republic of laws
now hostage to personality.
Franklin laughs,
then falls quiet.
No candle to lighten this tangle,
his pragmatism sees the flaws,
his hope searches for the spark.
He finds it not in politics
but in people –
small acts of repair,
a student questioning,
a neighbor feeding another,
a scientist unbought.
They speak little now,
each left to reckon
with what they built
and what it became –
not gods,
not saints,
just men,
and the future
still unfinished.
The Voice
November 2025
The Tomorrow Project Awards and Honorable Mentions
This issue of The Voice marks the completion of the first phase of The Tomorrow Project – with sincere congratulations to the many writers and artists who contributed a record 430 submissions to the p...
Writing: We (Are) The People
This poem by Popcorn, 14, of Vermont, was written in response to the writing challenge, We the People: The Constitution belongs to "we the people," and collectively we can make it work for us, argues ...
Visual Art: Who I Am
A self-portrait painted by writerfromva, age 17, of Virginia, in response to the visual art challenge, Values: Kindness and empathy are powerful forces. Look around you. Where do you find kindness? In...
Writing: And What Must They Think of Our Golden Door Now?
This poem by OverTheRainbow, age 12, of Vermont, was written in response to the challenge, Liberty: The Statue of Liberty, originally called "Liberty Enlightening the World," has stood as a symbol of ...
Visual Art: Deforestation and Its Impact on Wildlife
Sopyus, 18, of Florida, painted this piece, "Deforestation and Its Impact on Wildlife," in response to the visual art challenge, Climate and Our Earth: Create art that explores the many impacts of the...
Writing: Sparkler
This poem by IceGalaxy, age 17, of Virginia, responds to the challenge, The Declaration of Independence: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed...
Writing and Visual Art: Kindness, Accidentally; and Common Ground
Swimspotter, 18, of Vermont is being doubly recognized for her poem, "Kindness, Accidentally," and for her illustration, "Common Ground." Her writing submission was in response to the challenge, Value...
A River of Tears
Every day when we stand for the pledge, I feel like a curtain has fallen over me, holding me down. I remember who is president for the next four years. And I want to cry. I want to sit down and cry a...
The Only King We Want
Restrain the roaring voices to prevent the foreseeable fights filled with rage and hatred that could permanently appall the people of this world. Lips must sculpt more smiles, for strangers to see and...
Love, Like Light, Like a Rose
Love Is like light Is like a rose Growing from the darkened depths Of a blackened bramble Climbing through the soil With shadowed claws, Defeated by Our love: Beautiful because Of its strength, Risin...
Unfinished
They gather in shadow beyond the monuments, no longer chiseled names, but men again, haunted by what they see, each bearing the weight of his vision now worn. Washington stands first, his hands once ...
What Does It Take to See?
What does it take to see the dandelions blooming in the spring, yellow manes bobbing in the wind?What does it take to see the sun slanting through the windows, to hear the tree frog's chorus in the ni...