It's Gone
I’m trapped. I have been frozen in time, watching and waiting. Captured in a painting inside a government’s building. Here I’ve witnessed everything I ever worked for, crumple. Instead of flourishing it’s been replaced by the tyranny I swore my life to defeat. And the worse part is, I think it’s only the beginning.
This wickedness and lack of morality has been expanding as black oil filters though the earth, suffocating any growth of life trying to pour out into the surface. It kills any potential success, drowning it in corruption and greed. It’s the people, and their corruption, their carelessness and lack of compassion. How can they sleep at night?
I see it every day, these individuals, these leaders who claim to “represent” the people are full of phoniness. I can clearly see it in their hair, it’s stillness yet glossiness, similar to their actions in the government. Their fake handshakes and perfectly pressed suits, which are nothing but appearances. It’s in their huge belly, which are filled with liquor and lust. It’s in their hands; polished and pristine, not a day’s work has marked them. I’ve seen them plotting and stealing, lying and cheating. I’ve seen them destroy my paradise, my home.
It’s been a little bit over two hundred years since I led the Mexican people against oppression, authoritarianism, and subjection. I fought for freedom, I fought for rights, I fought for liberty. It all started early in the morning, with the Virgin Mary in my right hand, and my Mexican heart in the other, giving me and the oppressed a chance at fighting against our subjugators. It was a cold night, at the beginning of September, the morning breeze tingling my chalky white hair. The color of the sun merged with the ignited flames of the insurgent people.
I sacrificed everything to free us, I gave up my life for a cause that fueled my bones until the minute my heart stopped beating. And now, it’s gone.