The flag hangs quiet, but it feels too loud,
like it knows something we don’t say out loud.
Porch lights flicker on streets that used to feel safe,
now every shadow carries a kind of weight.
I drive past fields that used to mean peace,
but even the silence won’t give me release.
The sky is wide, but it presses down hard,
like hope is something we’ve quietly barred.
Neighbors wave, but their eyes look away,
as if kindness is something we ration these days.
The news hums low like a sickness in walls,
and nobody answers when empathy calls.
I used to believe in the stories we told,
about freedom, about courage, about being bold…
now it feels like we’re all just trying to survive,
in a place that forgets how to keep us alive.