“What Makes Me American”

What makes me American?

What makes you?

Is it the things we wear or do,

Or is it a greater thing altogether?

Or is it something which stretches beyond our roots?

We started as one,

Why should we not end that way?

And if we are but one, in split and jagged pieces,

Can we ever reunite?

I find it doubtful.

For when there is a slice,

A kind and gentle separating,

The edges are equally mirrored and smooth.

Yet, when we are ripped apart

By continents, states, water, air,

But mostly by words,

Our thoughts become vicious,

And we ourselves absorb this hate,

And become vicious too.

So what can be done to mend this broken

Thing of which we do not know?

Through kindness and warmth?

Hardly!

We must understand our differences,

Finding our way back to each other through time and art.

Could this be the beginning?