In my America (part 3)

I have been writing this series of poems over the past few years. Parts 1,2 &4 are scattered in different (and lost) journals... I'll keep looking. Here is part 3- written on 4-1-06

In my America, there were dreams that are only half way fulfilled
There are friends who no longer need to be loved, reassured or called
There are fading hopes and dreams, never to resurface again in fear of being crushed

In this America, politics, truth, sex and lies are on the front cover of every magazine
And murders make the 6'o clock news

In my America, there is him
Who needs bigger and better things
Who needs to realize his own dream

In my America, I never want to have to lean on anyone again

In this America, I cry myself to sleep sometimes
I wonder what the next day might bring
Only to wake up to live the same day over and over

Is this America I dreamed of?
I am not sure anymore.
All I know is that pretending might be the only way to survive in this America I have created..

EED