Made In America Poem by Robin Bennett

It was certainly beautiful while it lasted,
a rushing force, power-
together we were Niagara Falls.
Perfection, after we left our
brief French Canadian lives behind-

Each night together, a bomb
always exploded somewhere in mid air.
And we shot off our fire works until
the dawn's early light. You were
born in the old country. Trust me
they won't even realize you are gone.
I was willing to be Canadian for you,
can't you be American for me?
I'm sorry, I'm no Italian. I don't even
like pizza all that much. I tuned you
out after you said " I booked a flight
back home for next month."

After you left me-
I took a long hard look at myself
in the mirror, and my selfish
reflection mocked
my tears and the
make up evacuating from my
face. Sitting alone,
I still sometimes see your
face. Sadly, I'm a certified
basket case. Proudly made
in America.