The sane go insane

Trying to explain

The mundane in plain language.

It's the bane of their existence

And this is under the reign of first world pain

And suffering.

I'm appalled, far from enthralled

By our country's come up to the clear and prognosticated downfall.

Yet we stand tall

When called American

What does that mean?

To conquer land as far as we see fit?

Are we any better than imperialist Brits?

And if it's wits,

What wit would we have if not for the mix of cultures?

We're like leeches and vultures

I guess it's like mother like daughter.

But what better way to repent

Than to seek out dear Father in the sky?

To feign remorse yet justify irrational subjugating and lashing out on the world

To manifest a self-proclaimed destiny?

Yet we claim to be free.

But the first step to freedom is to realize that we don't have it.

The opportunity aspect was only relief to the unsuspecting victims

Who would inhabit.

"It's called the American Dream

Because you have to be asleep to believe it." 

You have to breathe, eat, and sleep the hypocrite-esque lifestyle

So that your child can

Live and prosper miles

Away from the dilapidating slums

And not have to beg for crumbs, but to own it one day, 

Have the ability to say,

"I'm happy and getting paid"

But that's a delayed opportunity

Because the wrong people have immunity to the punitive system.

And so the problem festers,

But this is my angry letter

As an angry American

Because we need to do better.