Our Daily Ballot

An election poem? Seriously?

We wait until November
to cast our precious vote.
And awaken the next morning
feeling we are in a capsized boat.

We struggle to hold our breath
and pretend we’re in a dream.
Surely we’ve not fully awakened.
Is it premature to scream?

Casting our ballot of intent
we expect manifestation.
When the opposite occurs
we feel separate from our nation.

We feel lost from the herd;
alone in a hostile sea.
We feel as though drowning
like our future will not be.

But that is what you get
when you only vote one day a year.
A simple mark on a ballot
cannot keep you out of fear.

Our every daily action
expressed to everyone we meet
is our real, true vote
which no one can defeat.

The most powerful vote
is a helping hand and a smile.
There is no regret
and no need for denial.

Every situation and person we meet
is a chance for us to vote;
a chance to change history
and make our fears remote.

“Vote” is a four-letter word
and so, too, is love.
Voting may seem to take us down
while love takes us above.

There are no winners or losers
when we vote throughout our day.
Why wait til November
when you can make it happen today?

Is there someone or something
that we are voting for?
Or is it our individual actions
that bring about something more?


Thank you for NOT highlighting any part of this poem.

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. Public domain photo by Pixabay. Thanks for reading and recommending.

Follow my writing at my publication: Writer On Foot Getting Bread

Books by White Feather

Be sure not to miss my wild and wacky and bizarre psychological thriller short story, Performance Anxiety