Miracles and the America Dream

A Poem by NefeliMay

Do you believe in miracles

Inspired from my grandmother’s hills to the bottom of what the American Dream looks like.

Miracles, *scoff. It’s like winning the lottery of high hopes, the endless cycles pursuing happiness. Happiness seems to be nothing more than paper; green and purple and blues of hue. Numbers that were only created to place colors in place. From dirt brown pennies to bricks of gold. Hidden behind steel bars in Private Banks, controlled by one people. Under god.

God. Painted in pictures to depict the people who makes us believe in miracles. To chase this dream, following the equation that hard work, dedication and believing in the system will one day help us escape from all the debt we are under. To live in this world where from the second you are born, you owe.

We tax life. We tax death. We tax the living.

Now how is that an American Dream?