You Turned

even when the world stands still
it turns topsy turvy beneath our feet
as black and white blend into gray,
color, stark against the lackluster
people claw for more definition
and the land of the free and purple skies
curdles into the land of the broken
where we cannot trust even those
sworn to protect us
where the land of manifest destiny
and of the American dreams
crushes windpipes at its knee
what a hypocricy.
and at a time we need
to stand together as one
why do we stab ourselves
turning fist against face
and teeth against flesh?
how can you live with yourself at all
knowing, you turned on the country
who gave you all of what you have
and you stood there, 
or rather knelt there
allowing yourself to transform
into the monsters you're supposed to hunt?