America

A flag flies free

over tired backs and vagabonds.

The people hear shouts and screams

of their America being torn apart.

Prejudice and hopelessness are overflowing

mingled with stupidity the monstrosity is growing.

America, our great symphony, how will you get to glory?

If the people who built you only go lower?

 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741