You buried me
Half the world away
And a lifetime ago

Yet you find me
In your every daydream
In every foreign touch
In every what if...

Almost...
But never quite

Orange man says
There’s a special people
The ones chosen by God
While everyone else might
Just disappear abroad

Not pleased merely
By casting every race
Deemed inferior away
He now threatens them
With Guantanamo bay

But orange man can’t really
Mean any of this nonsense
At least I hope that’s true
Mustache man was a joke
Until it was far overdue

Lately I've been feeling
Disconnected from the world
It seems such a dreadful place
It feels far away from home

So I come to my safe haven
Read and write for hours
Write and read some more
And I know I'm not alone

For I get to see each of you
The outcasts, the weirdos
The misfits, the poets...
But above all, the kind

My little beacons of hope...
My people