These Days

Here we are in September, and I’m still hanging in there with my post a day challenge. I have written a lot of poetry using different styles since I started in January. I’m not saying it has been great poetry. I’ll admit most of it wouldn’t win any contests. Surprisingly, Word Daddy has stuck with me through the ordeal. He still says he wants a raise. This month I plan to write Soliloquies. These are rambling monologues where the poet has conversations with herself. I believe this will be my biggest challenge since I don’t often talk to myself. I want to put a disclaimer right at the front of the adventure. The views expressed are the inner dialog of the poet. They might be total bs, but they are real. The first poem in this series I will call These Days.

These Days

I see things these days

I never, ever thought I’d ever see.

An entire world living in a state of fear

One catastrophe piled on top of another.

Hurricanes, wildfires, and a deadly disease

It’s all enough to bring a person to their knees.

A computer you can hold in the palm of your hand.

I guess my grandmother would say the same thing

If you asked her about a horseless carriage

That is if she hadn’t died from the Spanish Flu

Before she’d seen one and knew

They were going to be the next big thing.

I never thought I’d see

Our country leave its citizens behind enemy lines.

Or display incompetence on national TV

While politicians lie straight-faced to the crowd

Or watch the Capitol Building be overrun

By an angry mob

Or doubt the science

Because they haven’t got a single thing right.

Or fear my government

More than the plaque

I remember the days

When we could agree to disagree

Back when we had confidence in our leaders and were free.

They can talk all they want

But I don’t believe a thing

The spin doctors think I’m going to believe

Because everything that comes out of their mouth

Are ha;t-truths or blatant lies

I always thought I would live in the land of the free

But now I must face a new reality

Reject being a Republican or a Democrat

There is no reason to vote these days

Because you know they are opposite sides of the same coin

Don’t trade living life in brilliant colors

For a house-shaped coffin of security

Batten down the hatch’s girl

The water is about to get rough

This old lady thinks she’s had enough.

That’s why she’s having rambling conversations

With herself.

Who is Molly Shea?

Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh.  To read more of her short stories and adventures, click here.

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