Authors note; a different interpretation by ”In Just” by ee Cummings

The balloon man 

He brings rainbow colored rubber 

Larger than the sun 

He limps up and down the sidewalk all day 

Waiting for children to come and play 

He always goes home at night 

Much to parents’ delight 

He dresses up all in black robes 

Covering him in a cloud of ash-colored mist 

Children see him and run to him 

Grasping the string of his balloons 

The tiredness leave their eyes 

Their skin once a glowing tan 

Turns to milk their eyes lifeless 

Their bodies collapse to the grass 

The balloon man leans down closing 

The eyes of children near and far 

”may you sleep now in peace little one... Forever” he whispers solemnly 

He disappears riding away on the dark rain clouds filled with gallons of 

the tears of mourning parents.

I could never live
Without my sight
Sight is a beautiful thing
That more often than not is
Taken for granted
At least in my opinion
There is so much beauty
In the world that I couldn't
Bear to never see again
Like a valentines day rose
Sitting idly in a vase the fragrance of it bringing forth
Happy memories
Or the loving brown eyes
Of my boyfriend his gaze
Sets my heart ablaze
Or the silent snow slowly
Falling against your window
Back in the harsh cold north
As you curl up watching anime
Or the wide smile of your best friend
Her smile  unbroken despite the fact
Her back most definitely is
Or the yellow yolks of eggs.
The sight of them lets me know
I shall not go hungry for another day
Or the gray of an angry rain cloud
Hanging above my head the anger angst anguish and sadness
In them
These are just a few of the seemingly endless reasons
I couldn't live without my sight

Prompt: The word is racism.  Freewrite.

Racism
Racism is over here
It’s over there
It’s all around
Us it’s in the air
It’s amplified by
The hateful orange
Man In a house of
Pure white he builds
A huge wall in absolute
Delight he will kick out every Muslim
Asian
Mexican
And whatever else
  America shall become
The next Berlin
Separating us from the
Differing cultures of the world
Isolating ourselfs until we are


A cracking crumbling economy
As a wise man known only as
philosopher George Santayana,
Said 'Those who do not learn history are doomed to repeat it.'
And I suppose America has learned absolutely nothing
In its lifespanracd
We were ignorant
Of the culture feelings
And human worth of the
First African Americans
In the earliest days of our history
And we have learned nothing to this dayr