Three Works of Poetry
I Pledge Allegiance to the Flag
I pledge allegiance to the flag, for a state with no liberties,
A place I fear for my children to grow, God forbid they get any injuries.
Of the United States of America, the home of lies and violence,
Where I have seen innocents die to save companies finances.
And to the republican for which it stands, only for the men and women it fits,
Ignoring the rest, digging up their pits.
One nation under god, a being I call false,
Church and State, intermingled and the new principles.
Indivisible, what a joke,
Sides trying their hardest to shut the other down, both hoping they will be revoked.
With liberty, for the white and rich,
The rest get the ditch.
And justice for all, as I watch women die,
Children are buried, and minorities’ spirits fly.
Woman
I was told growing up, that my body had one job.
I was useless if I did not do it.
I went along.
Now I sit in a room, watching my cousin get examined.
The doctors interrogating her, blaming her.
You planned this!
She was only 14 weeks.
It simply grew wrong!
Yet the police don’t believe her…
neither does her mom.
I watched in silence, knowing I had nothing to add.
She may be arrested, maybe killed, I don’t know. But what about the dad?
He ran away, and hasn’t seen her since she told him about its growth.
He got away Scott free.
But she’s here, forced under oath.
She wanted it, and planned out its room.
I helped her find the colors, the bedding.
Hell, she was even picky about the shoes!
But by state law, she maybe found guilty.
Suffering from a loss.
She lost her wanted baby.
But the government does not believe her,
What happened to us?
I wish we could go back to how things were.
The Privilege of Heading Home
15 years old, I was forced to a search.
The officers checked my legs, my hips, my stomach, and my chest.
Their hands slid around me, at times slipping a bit close.
But I remembered my mother’s words.
Do not fight them. Do not argue. I need you home.
So I kept quiet, let them go through my bag.
They dumped it onto the side walk, my note books and pencils rolling into the street.
I watched them shake it, so vigorously.
The first man asked me, where are your uncles at?
I haven’t seen them in months, I mumbled.
Don’t lie, hand on his weapon, I retract.
It was true, they were long gone.
They kept looking; opening each page of the books.
I watched them lick their fingers and flip, it was gross.
When done they dropped it onto the sidewalk.
You can go, but if they come around…
I’ll let you know.
I cleaned it all up, and headed home.
Name: Zoe Coates