Retreat or Repeat: An American Quandary

In the land of stars and stripes, I stand,

At 40 years, with wrinkled hand,

On ballots cast, in ink and sand,

Two men returned, to steer this land.

 

I thought perhaps a change we'd see,

A leap, a bound, some unity,

Yet here we are, the same two names,

In this relentless, endless game.

 

I voted once, and then again,

In hopes that we'd find peace, my friend.

First Trump, then Biden took the helm,

But neither could this storm o'erwhelm.

 

I've lost my faith, in red and blue,

In systems old, and voices new.

Our values clash, we're torn apart,

A fractured soul, a weary heart.

 

Today's news stings, like salt on wounds,

The same old song, the same old tunes.

Is this the way it has to be?

A loop that locks, but never frees?

 

In voting booths, we pen our fate,

But ink runs dry, it's getting late.

Two men, again, on ballot sheet,

As I ponder if I should retreat.

 

It's hard to dream, to dare, to cope,

When headlines dim the light of hope.

Yet, maybe somewhere lies a key,

To break this chain, to set us free.

 

For now, I wear my age as proof,

Of battles fought, in search of truth.

The cycle spins, and yet I stand,

In this troubled, yet beloved land.

 

© Susie Stiles-Wolf