For years I’ve wondered if I would eventually choose the blue over the pink.
For years I’ve wondered if I would continue holding that passport of red.
That red of power.
That pink of pride.
For years I’ve wondered if our grievances are justified,
now for days I’ve realized that he can’t be denied.
Loathed yet loved,
the mark on history is clear.
As clear as day,
as sorrowful as night.
For years I’ve felt that tingling within,
every August on the ninth.
But I have never felt it burn so bright.
I know for sure,
that oath of allegiance I shall take,
come October this year,
I shall take with pride,
knowing that this is home
that I shall protect.