Tariffs

Steel and grain, in crates and bins,

Cross oceans wide on global winds.

But on the docks where dollars speak,

The price is high, the balance weak.

The eagle lifts a watchful eye,

Beneath a star-spangled sky.

"Protect our steel, protect our land,

Let foreign goods not gain the upper hand."

So tariffs rise like border walls,

On solar cells and textile halls.

A tax on trade, a guarded gate,

A nation's fear to import fate.

From China’s ports to Europe's shore,

The cost is passed, the goods are more.

Retaliation writes its line,

In wine and grain and factory spine.

The farmer feels it in his yield,

The auto plant, the rusting field.

Consumers curse at checkout lines,

Their carts now light, their bills with fines.

But somewhere deep in policy,

Lies dreams of self-sufficiency.

A tangled thread, both shield and chain—

The tariff’s toll is never plain.