Sadly a true socialism could be a cure, but it seems not to be within the nature of men. The haves have had for too long. As the have not's have wanted to be the haves for just as long. This is but a man's reaction to his poet's soul. With no direct connection to this poem.
man without a name
man without a country
dream without
where history's truth cries
unseen
reality without belief in
something more something less
child without a voice remembers
a people crying
for hope lost
where do they walk
who will see them
carry them
broken sighs
across borders
tries of men
with families true
the oldest country in the world
the only country god believes in
bloodied earth
broken rhyme
do you hear the tears of angels
drowning
the eyes of our children
You can't be writing poetically about America because it isn't the oldest country in the world. Still, America shares much of your concern and sadness.
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
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that worry me. But your message is on target.