No Child Left Behind

She voted to maintain support sanctify him,
wanting to be protected from the terrors of his world.
Yet she reads the pages of her hometown rag
with growing trepidation, voiceless isolation.
She keeps forgiving him his trespasses
even as he steals her daily bread,
eradicating scraps she and her children
would savor for any semblance of a life.

She endures seventy hours of minimum exploitation,
three masters because none deign to gift
her fair coin else lose her to financial freedom,
and no politico will admit the underlying truth,
that modern life’s been capitalized too expensive
for minimum to be anything but damnation.
To admit a thing is to name it yours and
such terror cannot be owned by this "great nation".

She blurrily sees her kids at breakfast,
and mayhap dinner before the race to next clock.
She prays to God her mother children herself
won’t sicken else the slavetime care crush her,
the medical, drug-abused pound of flesh
crucify her upon the cross of corporate welfare.

She reads, and reads this premeditated assassination
of her chances for happiness in her life,
Her children’s children’s lives, until
she feels a silent scream drowning in her sorrow.
In bubbling bile rising she numbly understands
he cares nothing about the citizens (nor the savior)
he ineloquently vows guidance for his "moral" course.
She walks a tightrope death-defying tragedy about to happen,
and is supposed to slogan it the American Dream.

God help us all that he wants to war this aberration
of "freedom" and "dignity" onto the rest of the world.
She prays if she must be his sacrifice, his experiment,
that she take his sins upon her, and stops him there
before there’s no dream left to dream…
only undeath in his 21st century nightmare
for every child he assures is not left behind.