The Ghost of Democracy

Location

78745
United States
30° 12' 55.3932" N, 97° 47' 45.6432" W

My land is called the “home for the free”

But I must be blind for I can’t see

Behind the ignorance and bigotry

The golden fruit we have called democracy

 

Can we truly be called the strong and brave

When our loyal defenders have yet to be saved

And our nation's youth looks to be cold and grave

Because the horrid green paper continues to enslave

 

Why have our bombs bursting in air

Now cause homes of innocent families to be blown bare

And our once great rockets’ red glare

Signals another new wave of terrifying warfare

 

My country is no longer truly great

But xenophobia and MOABs will not change our death rate

How many signs of turmoil will it take

To convince our leaders that our enemy is within our states

 

We need to educate and inspire our fellow men

To be kind and loving to their brethren

And once we are a nation of strong freemen

We can truly make America great again

This poem is about: 
My country

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