Amelia Earheart, ameliorate
What mysteries come from these cruel twists of fate
The great wide Atlantic, your canvas it seems
Got lost in the middle of your own lofty dreams
What else is left from here?
How does it feel, that just for one day
The rest of the land waits on your yea or nay?
Electoral College, hallowed are your halls
And time will determine your triumphs and falls
November leaves, the trees climbing at the sky
Trying to get back, trying to get inside
History writers, what secrets are found
In your cursive highways, in books leatherbound?
Amelia darling, what went down with the ship?
What pages went missing in your man*script?