Should I Continue?

America, the brave?

More like America the Slave.

Founded on the oppression

Of millions, and millions.

Our ideals of freedom are only for those

That fit into certain categories.


Torn between races, and greed, and hate, and violence,

It seems everyday we fall deeper into silence.

No one speaks out, and if they do they’re shot

Down with the voices of the people who would keep you

Locked away in a cage.


Rich, white men. That’s who represents you.

And if you think that we’re still great, well I got news

Boy, we were never great. We invaded and destroyed,

We pillaged and we raped. And now, even hundreds of years later,

We still take and take so the fat men can keep filling their pockets.


And if you’re gay?

You got equal rights, or so they say,

You can marry who you want, what more could you want?

don’t expect to be treated like a person,

Because you’re not, in the eyes of America.

With their good Christian ideals.

But if they don’t believe the same way then they must be evil.

Then they must be demons, possessed by the devil.

So of course they don’t deserve to be treated the same,

With love and respect, equal pay and protected.


So no, America. You were never great.

You got a longs ways to go before you can even be called ‘’good’’.

You got police killing, when they should be protecting.

And dirty politicians trying to take away my basic human rights.

All so they can cut the cost and keep it in their own bank account.


You got children starving, mothers dying because they can’t afford

Their medical bills, so they can’t go get some medicine ‘til

They get their next minimum wage paycheck, and even then it’s too small.

They can’t afford to take care of themselves.

When you pile up bills, taxes, and pills. It’s not enough.


And you wonder why we’re on drugs.

We gotta escape somehow

Either through books, or movies, maybe something harder

Like alcohol, nicotine, or heroin.

I’ll put that needle in my arm,

And forget all my problems.

Forget that I’m in poverty

Because I got an education

That cost me my everything I had

And now I’ll die trying to pay off my student loans.


But, hey. At least this is America.

Land of the so called “free”

Where you can buy a gun,

But can’t sell weed.


At least until the state will legalize it,

Because they wanna make a profit,

From what you’ve been doing for your livelihood

Too feed your kids, to keep your house.


If you can’t make money off it,

Then why try and stop it?

If you’re abused, or accused,

Got a bruise, or any proof

You come forward, but they ignore you

And refuse to prosecute.


Because, you know.

He’s a football star.

You don’t wanna ruin his career,

as a student, or a

Player, and you were dressed

Kind of, well, slutty.


My genitalia shouldn’t

Define me as a person,

Or employee.

My 73 cents to a man’s whole dollar

Shouldn’t even exist if we had

True gender equality.


These are just a few issues,

That need to be addressed

To make us something better

So we can be the best

We have ever been,

So future generations

Can look back at history

And smile at the fact

That we became a great country.

This poem is about: 
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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