Welcome to the United States of Israel.
Where flags blur together
until no one remembers which nation is grieving anymore.
We sent oceans of dollars across the sea
while veterans slept beneath bridges at home,
wrapping themselves in the same flag
used to justify another shipment of fire.
Welcome to the United States of Israel.
Where elections arrive already purchased,
and men in expensive suits call it “democracy”
while lobbyists count the votes before the people do.
Where news anchors rehearse compassion
with makeup hiding the ash of burning children.
Where the dead are statistics
unless their grief improves ratings.
Welcome to the United States of Israel.
Where silence is patriotic
and conscience is a career-ending disease.
Speak too loudly of blood,
of rubble,
of mothers pulling names from dust,
and suddenly you are dangerous.
Not because you lied
but because you interrupted the business model.
So the cameras blink.
The senators applaud.
The bombs keep falling like quarterly profits.
And somewhere beneath all the speeches about freedom,
humanity sits alone at the back of the room,
uninvited,
watching democracy auction its soul
for campaign donations and applause.
May 20
May 20, 2026 at 7:05 PM UTC
Welcome to the United States of Israel.
Where flags blur together
until no one remembers which nation is grieving anymore.
We sent oceans of dollars across the sea
while veterans slept beneath bridges at home,
wrapping themselves in the same flag
used to justify another shipment of fire.
Welcome to the United States of Israel.
Where elections arrive already purchased,
and men in expensive suits call it “democracy”
while lobbyists count the votes before the people do.
Where news anchors rehearse compassion
with makeup hiding the ash of burning children.
Where the dead are statistics
unless their grief improves ratings.
Welcome to the United States of Israel.
Where silence is patriotic
and conscience is a career-ending disease.
Speak too loudly of blood,
of rubble,
of mothers pulling names from dust,
and suddenly you are dangerous.
Not because you lied
but because you interrupted the business model.
So the cameras blink.
The senators applaud.
The bombs keep falling like quarterly profits.
And somewhere beneath all the speeches about freedom,
humanity sits alone at the back of the room,
uninvited,
watching democracy auction its soul
for campaign donations and applause.
Inspired by Workrate
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