Dear Donald - My response to 45/47's Speech to a Joint Session of Congress made on Tuesday March 4th 2025

Dear Donald,
My response to 45/47's “Speech to a Joint Session of Congress” made on Tuesday, March 4th 2025
no mercy edition

You stood there,
your body weighed down by the ghosts of bad decisions,
sweating through your suit like history was leaning in,
breathing down your neck,
whispering all the names of the people
who will never forget what you have done.

You stood there,
bloated with borrowed confidence,
spitting history's recycled venom
like America had not already heard it before.
Like our ancestors had not already tasted
that same bitter recipe,
rebranded, repackaged,
served on silver platters to the blind and the willing.

You mistook your echo chamber for a cathedral,
mistook a podium for a pulpit,
mistook blind applause for a victory
that was never truly yours.

You mistook your microphone for a megaphone,
mistook power for permanence,
mistook the silence in the room for approval
instead of exhaustion.

America is tired, Donald.
Tired of your recycled rhetoric,
your rotting ideology wrapped in a flag
and force-fed to people desperate
for a past that never really existed

You say greatness like it is something
you alone discovered,
as if America did not build itself
on the backs of the very people
you erase with the swipe of a pen.

You said greatness,
but the only thing you have ever made great
is the distance between your hands
and the people who needed you most.

You scrubbed Black Lives Matter off the pavement
like history is a chalk outline
that can be washed away with enough pressure.
Like our fight for dignity was just a slogan
instead of the last words of men and women
who were never given the option to breathe.

You remove Black Lives Matter from the streets
like asphalt has a memory problem.
Like removing the words removes the wounds,
like our bones ain’t buried beneath every mile of this country.
Like our blood ain’t mixed into the mortar of the monuments-
you stand before and dare to call your own.

You think erasure is an answer.

You chokehold & signed away trans rights
with the same ease
that you sign your name on failed businesses,
leaving bodies bankrupt of safety,
of identity,
of home.

with the same sweaty palms
that signed their existence away,
dragging them back into shadows,
where you think we will not hear their screams.

You’re trying to legislate marginalized people into nonexistence,
like a name unspoken is a body unwritten.
Like, silence is not a weapon.
Like history, it will not dig up every one of your crimes
and carve them into stone.

And —
We … we are making diss tracks?
Rolling out the red carpet for apathy,
writing clever hooks while Donald rewrites our rights?
Tapping along to the beat while the walls close in?
Sitting in silence like America ever gave us the option?
We let our anger trend instead of take form?

Other nations would have burned buildings
before they let Donald turn human rights into a campaign slogan.
Other countries would have fed Donald to history’s fire
before he could carve another scar into the future.

We used to know what war looked like.
We used to recognize when a government
was leaning too hard on the backs of its people.
We used to know when to strike the match.

But you? You, Donald–
You have made revolution a commodity.
Tried to make us comfortable in our own oppression.
Tried to make us believe that hashtags
are the same thing as accountability.

You have played this game before.
You have built your empire on the backs of the quiet.
You have built your platform on the bones of the forgotten.
You have built your kingdom on a foundation of people
too tired to keep fighting.

Guess what? Now, we’ve popped an Adderall
and are not tired, Donald.
We are not afraid, Donald.
Your white daughters seem like our black athletes
So it looks like we’re not going anywhere –Donald.

Nah bruh
We will not turn rebellion into a genre.
We will not ask history to be kind,
because history is never kind to cowards.

We will carve our names in the streets
until you understand that we will never wash away.

America, pick a lane.
Do you want change or closure?
Do you want justice or convenience?
Do you want to fight back or fade away?

Because if we do not answer now,
History will answer for us.
And history does not believe
in mercy.

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