Jordan Liles sits on a bench looking out at the Brooklyn Bridge, years before writing the poem titled The People, Down Below.

The people, down below

by Jordan Liles

I lost two friends
They were younger than I
90 years old I was
Standing watch nearly a century

When they came, outcasts
Ridiculed, rejected, my friends
A man brought a wire
And joy to the city

They were both so tall
Into the sky
28 years above my flags
So high into the sky

We watched together
The years below
The people
The city

Movements, moments
We saw them all
Strong we were
Together

One day
The anguish
My friends
They fell

I looked into the sky
The smoke, thick
Patient, I was
Waiting for my friends

The people, down below
Guided along
Past my towers
The crying, the tears

Looking for my friends
They were gone
I was alone
They were my friends

The others let me be
They, too, my friends
But not the same
Not for an old man like me

I was alone
28 years, gone
Down below, the people
The crying, but

The people were different
At first
Unity
Together, not apart

The crying
Passing with the wind
My flags in the wind
Stronger than before

One day, a sight
Where I looked for 28 years
Stronger, taller, as one
My friend had returned

I began to ask
My friend reassured me
No more smoke
Here to stay

Today we watch
Together
The people
The city

Out there
Something different
Division
Apart, not together

The lies
The hate
The selfishness
Like smoke

My flags
They fly
But not the same
Not like before

My friend asked why
What had happened
The people
Changed

I had seen it all before
The people, down below
And I’ll be damned
If America won’t rise again

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