Proud to be an American?-By Susan Thomas

America the land of dreams...
where the streets are paved with gold.
The people chant...
We Are Number One!
When they see my silence
questions are sure to follow.
They react with horror and revulison,,,
when I say...
America isn't the best.
That this country...
brings me nothing but shame.

How can I join them?
When America's leaders rig election lines.
To make sure who serves their interests wins a seat.
I cannot cheer for a county,
that steals from the poor...
and takes their spirit
to line the pockets of the rich.
I can't be proud of a country,
that's full of fake smiles and hospitality.
While at the same time shunning immigrants
with hopes and dreams.
How disheartening it must be to learn,
that the streets are paved with broken dreams.

Someone shouts...
America is best!
And a tinge of fury burns deep.
We can't be the best.
Americans care more about beating the other side to a bloody pulp,
than calmly talking and finding the best solution.
A country that once claimed to love God.
But now uses his word as a weapon against those that are different.
A country that cares more for test scores,
than they do a child.
A country where those that need help,
are treated like trash and unworthy.
While those who see them feel dirty,
and work hard to scrub themselves clean.

Some may say America is best.
But all I see,
is a country full of hate,
full of selfishness,
a people that forgot what our fore fathers faught for.
Worst of all,
a country that sees love,
as a mere disposable trinket.
A people that cares more about appearnces and self interest.
Nothing really to brag about.

You Say You Love-By Susan Thomas

You say you love everybody,
but don't approve the behavior.
You sneer in disgust,
when a man expresses his love...
for another man
or a woman shares a pasionate kiss
with a another woman.

You claim to love those like them.
Just not that part of them.
I have trouble comprehending...
your idea of love.
That love is somehow conditional.
That if someone believes or feels
in a manner you don't like...
your somehow allowed to hate...
just that one part.

How is that love?
Isn't love UNCONDITIONAL?
Accepting AND embracing...
the WHOLE person.

You try to use the bible.
My lord and savior,
as your excuse for hate.
But the Jesus I know...
LOVED the PROSTITUTE,
the DESTITUTE and SINNERS.
Aren't you just a pharasee?
Caught up in RULES and REGULATIONS,
and FORGETTING the meaning of love.

Invisible Beast-by Susan Thomas

There was a day,
that I was free to dream,
free to dance,
free to be.
I was a joyful,
young spirit.
Naive.
Then one day,
my freedom came to an end.
The monster
I could not see,
or touch,
had me in it's grasp.
I tried to run,
but it was faster.
I tried to ignore it,
but it's grasp just grew tighter.
I tried so hard to get away,
to find my freedom,
but it had me runnin' in place.
It stole my eyes
so I couldn't see.
Everytime I thought I finally beat it,
it would pounce
and pin me harder than before.
The cage it built
was strong
and seemed unbeatable.
Things seemed hopeless.
Then one day
I was whisked away
to a place.
They made promises.
I thought their words were hollow.
This was my doom.
My fate.
To my astonishment,
in a few short days,
I was free.
I was no longer in a cage.
No longer bound
or held down
by the invisible beast.
Instead they took the beast
and locked him way.
Now our rolls are reversed.
I have the power
and that thing will never taste freedom.
It waits for me to be sloppy
to mess up.
A moment of weakness,
but that will never happen.
I enjoy my freedom
and intend to keep it.

Tree Proud and True-By Susan Thomas

Tall tree, proud and true
you hold your majestic branches,
out with pride.
Once you were the home,
for many.

You were so tall
beautiful
and aged.
That young animals
looked to you for your shelter.

Children danced at your feet
Amazed at the way
your wonderful branches
could easily be called home.

Reaching far to shelter
those below.
Your sticky sap
there to feed so many.
The prickly needles you shed
although unpleasant to bare feet
give a wondrous scent.

Now your pride has been taken.
Many of your majestic branches
stolen
because one did not appreciate your beauty.

The glorious owl
who had called your branches home
for so many years
now finds himself with no home
because your branches were so
cruelly taken.

They took your pride
your glory,
but you still stand
tall and true.
Defying their hate
fighting for your life.
Daring them
and taunting them
with your victory.

What I should have said- By Susan Thomas

Thought about what I should have said,
thousands of times through the years.
All the should haves
and could haves.
Only making the regret
of my wobbly backbone grow.
We were just kids.
Perhaps that explains your cruelty.
Your words may have seemed small,
no big deal,
taken as a single piece of dialogue.
If taken with the whole situation,
many people would gasp,
many would be horriffied,
many might ask what your damage is.
You said my pants were tight,
I hadn't had the chance to shop for something new.
You said my striped shirts were lame,
but yet I see you the very next year...
wearing a nearly identical shirt,
that you said was so lame.
You said my hair was ugly
and went well with my fat face.
Strange these words should be used,
as when they were said...
I had trouble maintaining a healthy weight.
I hated food.
Eating was a chore.
If the insult had been more persistant
I may have easily slipped into an eating disorder.
Thankfully your words didn't have that affect.
You would call me stupid.
Funny you would call me this.
It was obvious you didn't believe it,
after all
wasn't it you that tried to copy my answers to the quiz?
Joke is on you.
I knew what you tried to do
and threw the quiz.
You called me worthless,
 a waste of space.
I surely wasn't worthless to those who cared for me.
I surely am not a waste of space to the man upstairs.
It's these words that bother me most.
Not because they were some of many
that caused me depression
and thoughts of suicide,
but because you have children now.
How can someone
who tells another they are worthless
capable of raising a child in a healthy manner.
Won't they learn that pushing people down
and making them question
their self worth
is the right thing to do?
After all you set a fine example
of how to step on people
just because they aren't like you
and don't think like you.
I fear for your children
and any children
that suffer at their hands
because of you.

Book-By Susan Thomas

Silently waiting
Silently hoping
for tender human touch
for someone's gaze
to absorb the wonder you hold within
so much to say
so much to see
so many people to show me
you contain a world
that is unfamilar
the fantasy in your pages
is like a siren's call
beckoning the weak and strong
to answer your call
you hold no judgement
no hate
you just have a longing
to share the story
you have to tell

Chalkboard-by Susan Thomas

You have much to say
or nothing at all
Your words strong and clear
can easily disappear
You rarely look nice
and are usually musty and dusty
what you have to say
depends on what I want to say
your words are usually beige

but pink or blue happens to
running my hard tips against your surface
makes you screech
washed once a week
by the naughty child in the cornor
the sight of you
brings memories of
math problems
spelling words
grammar and more
the likes of you
are beginning to disappear
as white boards and smart boards
slowly take your place
soon you will be no more
only a distant memory
destined to fade
and find your place in history