After the funeral procession,
I heard my mother say:
“They’ll never know who the next President is.”
I never thought much of this until election day.
How strange that soon I will be a witness to a country torn in half.
Either way this thing goes,
Someone will be in mourning,
Someone will be the pallbearer,
Someone will be digging up the grave.
Someone will never live to see
the future they imagined.
I just hope hatred
is the one to die
this time around.