Stopping Traffic

We've had our differences here as of late.
There's been more shouting, more anger, more violence, more hate than calm debate.
I have no clue as to when compromise became such a dirty word to you?
Since when did finding common ground between us grow to be such a burden?
Our entire world has grown thick with thorns and we're forced to wade through them.
I still remember though, on calm days,
with a sky so blue that it feels like its mourning its own passing,
the pleasure of existing around, beneath and within you.
Of feeling like every person I've ever met is because of you.
You've carried your own names in the past.
Shucked them off like old worn-out shoes,
when the leather splits and the soles flap and clap along to the beat of your walking.
You tossed the names aside and strolled on by, not stopping, not bothering to notice
as you tossed away yesterday's rubbish.
Some of those names where unfair, angry and cruel.
They at times had a line of truth that cut to the heart of you.
But now the names you shuck away,
I'm just not sure you should be so quick to be through.
Lady liberty. Justice and truth.
These are not just accusations on a late-night report with John Oliver
shouting about how much you and I don't know.
As if he's bothered to walk out of his mansion to take our mile long stroll.
I do hope you'll keep those shoes.
You'll not quit, not retire, never tire of being true to who you really are.
Since my birth I have loved you.
These changes you're trying to go through some are justified, it's true.
But perhaps others are just a bit too much for you.
Maybe, we should slow down for a while.
Repair some old shoes.
Walk to the middle of the street again,
stop traffic on all sides and then...
Just talk.