2011 -- 3.2 (Spring) Poetry

No One Can Protect Her

by Chelsey Lucas

Solemn, she looked down upon her America and cried,
            What have you become?

Her faded jean overalls scratch on the crumbling steps
of her three story multiple family
crammed and destitute,
poor, like her father who,
with hands cracked, worn, and covered in dirt, worked several shifts at many jobs,
there just wasn’t enough for them.
There was never enough.

America, what have you become?

Your children’s children are starving in the streets
And your brave policemen are afraid of the fags in NYC
And your businessman are bankrupting You, America,
            What have you become?
With your poor getting poorer
            streets getting darker
            cities getting smaller
            heart beating softer

Little girl crying at gunshots in the ghetto
but her daddy’s at work,
he can’t protect her. America, no one can
protect her.

America, what have you become?