What They Call News — NaPoWriMo Day #20 — a poem about media bias, fake news, and the state of the world
Verge of tomorrow.
Votes lead to joy or sorrow.
A country divided,
half hope,
half hate.
It's as if
the times
never changed.
TV news will lie to you.
They say we're racists
and I guess many are.
But count your inner circle.
Count your workmates
and playmates,
and tell me how many
are really making that mistake.
Maybe your answer would surprise me.
Maybe I live in another world
built in a time of love and acceptance
and maybe I'm too optimistic,
too coddled by my artist's bubble.
Who shapes this world long-term, though?
Not the politicians and the police.
It's the musicians, the writers,
the directors, the producers,
the singers, the dreamers.
Every four years we get caught up
and think that some flawed human
(likely corrupt, likely a puppet)
can step to that podium
and save us all.
Change begins at home.
Raise your babies to love everyone.
Change your elders who still judge.
Vote with your dollars,
your actions,
your words.
The mirror reveals more
about the state of the world
than any idiot box or boob tube,
than any social media screen
or anything else they call news.
Photo by: Elijah O'Donnell
