I grew up in another time

I grew up in another time



I grew up in another time, a time where we thought about America in terms of domination and pride of being . . . Being number one, not two, three or four. Where did that go? When did we stop believing in ourselves? When did we stop trying to help each other?



I read today that Toyota is number one . . . I’ve never not bought an American made vehicle and so many tell me oh so many reasons why I’m not buying American anymore. They say all the parts come from far away lands and that my GMC is made in Canada or Mexico or some other land . . . And all I say is, where’s the Company’s Corporate head quarters?



Because where it is, is where the money goes. Things may change, but let’s be frank . . . Where the factories go, so does the money and when the money’s gone, America will be an alien land, a wasteland.



And maybe that’s just another cause leading to a cheaper labor force . . . But then again don’t kid yourself for those that believe in money first, will always have another reason why they choose to move.



Dan Hanosh

Dreams are yours to Share



My Books: The World Outside My Window, AuthorHouse, 2004

Soon to come, Sleepless Nights



Links: Dreams Are Yours To Share

Warriors and Wars

dhanosh writingup

Dan Hanosh poemhunter.com

Dan’s Room 2 Write



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What went so terribly wrong

What went so terribly wrong . . .

The Latimes got this one right, “Gunman was one of Us.” For just a second, think of him as your brother, your neighbor, the kid everyone loved to pick on and then maybe you might see a little of you in him.

He may not have been an American citizen, but he grew up in the U.S. He was a product of our streets, our neighborhoods, our culture as best as anyone could be. He had parents that loved him, we all do and yet things happen, we change.

We reach out to a higher power, questioning, not knowing why those classmates were singled out. Not knowing why their parents are burying a child before themselves . . . And I don’t have to tell you that’s a parents worst nightmare. Today it’s been a full week since the shootings and the pain is still there and it will for quite a long time. Many will never mend, some will be permanently scarred.

And as a nation one morning, we woke up to tragedy not quite in the realms of a 9-11, though it hurt just the same. And we morn, just the same, we cry, just the same, and we go on, just the same.

Dan Hanosh
Dreams are yours to Share

My Books: The World Outside My Window, AuthorHouse, 2004
Soon to come, Sleepless Nights

Links: Dreams Are Yours To Share
Warriors and Wars
dhanosh writingup
Dan Hanosh poemhunter.com
Dan’s Room 2 Write

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