In Liberty's Healthy Hands
Helenna Santos
America the beautiful, America the brave
America the hypocrite, America the slave.
Crying and helpless, the blind leading the sighted,
Praying that they are not misguided.
Richer than rich climbing over the poorer than poor
‘round the arms and legs, ears and eyes of
Liberty.
The citizens sleep in her cold firm hands
pretending not to watch as she kills the drowning man.
The weary, the lame, clawing at her feet;
despite the gaping wounds, it seems she does not bleed.
“No socialism!” the masses cry,
even when one of their own is denied
the right to life, love, and the pursuit of happiness.
An eye for an eye, a cheek for a cheek.
It’s organ harvesting time.
So climb,
climb,
all over me.
I am here,
on bended knee
at Liberty’s swollen feet.
Sweet.
Sweet.
Liberty.
And Justice.
For all?
Author’s note: I wrote this piece after I came down with a bad stomach virus and needed medical attention. Having been brought up in Canada, I still can not wrap my mind around the fact that in America, health care is not a basic right.