With liberty and justice for all.
So says the pledge.
We stand in unison at 7:40 in the morning when the bell rings.
Yet those last words keep echoing in my head:
Liberty and justice for all.
Who is “all”?
The privileged. The upper class. The white faces.
Does liberty have meaning
for those who keep our lawns trimmed
and our dishes clean,
whose backs carry the anthem they’re told to honor?
Alligator Alcatraz—Trump’s Everglades prison.
ICE.
Names that drown out the promise of freedom.
How do we send innocent souls away
from a land stolen by force,
taken along trails of tears?
How do we tear apart the families
who keep this country alive,
who built its wealth yet never shared in it?
The colors of our flag—red, white, and blue—
are said to represent the American dream:
Red for desire,
White for innocence,
Blue for stability.
But the American dream is just something
you ponder late at night:
a picket fence, a quiet street,
a family asleep by eight.
What about the families
who have been here just as long,
working through the night, through the dawn,
barely able to afford a small house
at the edge of the city?
“Work hard, and you’ll achieve your dream.”
But what are you supposed to do
when liberty and justice turn away,
leaving you to work
with fear instead of hope?
With liberty and justice for all.
So says the pledge.
We stand in unison at 7:40 in the morning,
hands on hearts.
Still, those last words keep ringing in my head:
Liberty and justice for all.
When will that line be felt instead of heard?
Author’s Note:
This poem is about the current state of America. Contrary to it being called the land of the free, this country often decides who freedom is designed for. It isn’t meant to be political, but rather an eye-opener about deportation, racial inequality, and the silent contradictions we see every day. As a student, I wanted to share how the words we repeat so often eventually sink past our ears and into our hearts.
Rabaina Kaur | 16 | Edison, NJ | @rabainakaur on TikTok
