No Room
Behold, I stand at the
door, and knock
Big America, Big America,
let me come in.
No. We are not blind.
You might be a wolf in the
only clothes on your back
sent to swallow us whole.
Please. I no longer have
a place to lay my heart.
My smile is broken and
devils fill my dreams.
No. We may be pigs
but we are not fools.
We know your wretchedness
could be a subtle ruse.
Please. I have long heard
of the brave flame shining in
the night sky, held by
a mother’s stately arm.
No. As the Innkeeper once
said: There is no room.
Our great plans simply
do not include you.
Thank you. You have captured it, painfully, truly.
Wonderfully written, as always. I just wish it weren’t so damn true.
This makes me so sad……. Very well written.
Truth. Masterfully done, John. Spoken from the heart of the gospel!
Thanks for writing this. This is what embracing fear leads to.
AMEN AMEN AMEN ….jasL
Woke up this morning with the words on the Statue of Liberty in my head. And now this.
So perfectly said! I will not stand for this! It is time for action.
[…] _ “NO ROOM”, A POEM BY JOHN BLASE at The Beautiful Due (where there are more great poems!) […]
thank you.
John, you’ve been unusually quiet lately here on this Poem link. Gotta say, my soul misses your poems and hoping there hasn’t been a bend in your road that might leave us poemless. That would feel a travesty. Though if that were the case, I’d dig deep and bless you on your way.