The only truth
that I can see
in this thing
called history
is man’s inhumanity
to man
and mothers on
the outside
looking in
as their children
are taken
far too young
from their
never ending love.
Despair is common
in this world
beset by human sin
it is easier to
sink and drown
than build
the city on
the hill.
The river fills
an ache in me
spilling over shore
with greed, while
the earth forsaken
must recede.
But then I hear
her voice with laud
for every living thing
my hometown queen
her voice – a prayer
oh, sing Aretha sing!
She beckons me to
a higher ground,
mountains conquered,
dignity wins, yes it
wins when she sings
oh, how she sings
amen and hallelujah
sing Aretha sing!
Anne's mediocre poetry 