Well
I can't call you Master
If I refuse 2 be a slave
Seems freedom must be earned
In this Land of the Brave
So I dedicate this 2 all who gave
2 remind us the love we make
Is the Country we save
My Country, tis of thee
Sweet land of hypocrisy
Of thee I cringe
A syringe
Washing upon once pristine shores
Medical clinics closing their doors
On the poor
We the people stand in unison
And implore
NO MORE, NO MORE!
My Native Country?
No!
Tis the land of the Pawnee, Blackfoot, Cherokee and Navaho
From Death Valley 2 Montana snow
Let freedom grow
I love thy potential
Yet it seems
You have neglected the Dream
Of children black and white
At peace tonight
Let music swell the breeze
Yet we shan't ignore images
Of Black Fruit swaying in Southern Trees
Nor the interrment of the Japanese
Our silence breaks
Thy will is strong
America
Must we prolong
The songs
Of Liberty
Mercy mercy me
Things ain't like they usta 2 be
Ohhh No!
2 Our Father God I plead
Let not one more
Poor single mother bleed
After a botched abortion
So many groups dedicated 2 saving
Whales and pets
Yet somehow we chose 2 forget
The image we project
2 our brothers and sisters in need
America
On my knees I plead
Begging with tears please
Allow our children's Dreams 2 remain
As bright and enduring as
John F. Kennedy's Enduring Flame
America ,
I only desire 4 you 2 love us
As we, the people
Love You

All Poetry by D.Greaves/Darwin Greaves by D.Greaves-Darwin Greaves is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at dgreaves.posterous.com.
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.