AR (3-2-1945 / California)

What Happened To America?

(Based on a true story)
I first met America
In an old Mexican orphanage
She must have been 7 or 8
But looked older for her age
She sat in a corner
Away from the crowd
All the other children
Were jumping and shouting out loud
She had lost her parents
Or maybe her parents lost her
Would she ever live in a world
To understand what it really cost her
As the missionaries pass out used clothes
And boxes of sad broken toys
America wouldn’t be bothered
She just covered her ears from the noise
She got my attention
As a tear ran down her face
She looked so different
Like an angel out of place
Her eyes were the coldest blue
With a hint of cloudy grey
She had a look so distance
As if lost in a land far away
Her hair golden like silk
As it gave off a glow of sun light
Curls draped her head
As she tossed them left and right
Her smile was force
As it oozed from her eyes
Isn’t it quite ironic
That out of the crowd I was her prize
She speaks to me volumes
As if a flood gate was left open
She looked at me as if I was a sponge
I listened to her spirit tired and broken
No one wants this sad orphan
A tattered doll that is taken back
Living in as place where hope is surrendering
And the picture of truth is painted black
How do we assess the inventory of her dreams
Stored in a dark place of her mind
Where every dream ends with screams
As she lays invisible to us, the blind
To lost opportunities, we give our best regards
Is this how we act in a theatre of distress
Where we build hope with a house of cards
Is this the illusion of progress
In a world of broken promises
Where thoughts and prayers are cut with a knife
If only a ray of light could shine through
Just maybe, but I think not in this life
As we get ready to leave
She clings to my leg with all her might
Making me promise
I will be her angel in the night
She refuses to let go
Until I said what she needs to hear
She had opened her heart and soul to me
I whispered I promise softly in her ear
Outside the missionaries approached
Asking what promise I had invested
She wouldn’t let go I said
So I said what she happily ingested
With a lecture so stern
They scolded me about my little white lie
You see, she will wait for you
Forever and ever, until one of you die
A felt like a weasel so small
Looking for a rock to hide under
Never thinking for a moment
Those simple words could strike like thunder
And destroy a pleasure so true
That some total stranger
Would really care about you
I knew then I could not let her down
I wanted the days to race on
I would run like the wind
To see her smiling face at dawn
But when I got there
The building was bare
No more children to be found
They had faded into the background
My heart sank with no place to turn
Instead of rediscovering America
I had a hard lesson to learn
In the moment of truth
Do what little you can
Give a child a piece of your heart
Because in her heart she will understand
I never found America again
She was swept into the barrios of despair
I often hear her wailing
Waiting for one more person to care

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Edgar Allan Poe

Annabel Lee

Comments (1)

Excellant subject and super painting. I am emotionally choked. But it has failed to become a poem.It is just a reporting.It is narration. Express 2000 words in 100 words. Try it again.