We are the ones
Who get to ask why
And are tortured
By our skepticism
I feel small
I feel fat
Haha, shh
The hiss of gossip
Fear, the opposite of love
Love, our ultimate belief
Belief, what saves us from fear
Faith in a fairy tale
Love story
Rooted in faith
I bet
In love of country
In football
In Americana
It bleeds red, just like
The bleeding hearts
And his hat
And those flags
And it wins
And it is money
And it will make a case
Speaking the delicate
Language of a trend
A lifestyle
A mantra
A fetish
An identity!
Money money money
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I get this
Kind of
You followed me today, I understand. Thank you. I enjoyed reading your poem.
It was horrifying to get to your poem in my browser. I could see that my browser was ultimately fragile as it was clear it was difficult to reach. Nonetheless, I don't think this feedback needs to be sent again to Substack.
I was gladly persistent enough to reach you.