Get Your Premium Membership

Salute To the Fourth

A cigar in my mouth An ice chest by my side Every American this day Should hold tremendous pride A day such as this Calls for celebration For it is the birthday Of our exemplary nation Kids round the country Light works of fire And all of these children Never seem to tire Today calls for drinks Lined up all around Tequila shooters Time to paint the town Some may say I party too much They are probably right But I don’t listen to talk of this such If they degrade me for my actions That is their own decision I don’t care For my life is led with precision All of my life Everything I do Is based on freedoms Our ancestors chose to pursue The building block of this country What holds all things together Was written 52 in pen Made from a feather July the fourth Seventeen seventy six Our nation was formed Today was the day We earned the right to be free Our founding fathers deserve Our respect to the highest degree Many have forgotten What this day means Today years ago we broke off the ties To all kings and queens Life, liberty And the pursuit of happiness Is what our founders fought for 230 years ago today Round the world came a roar For this great nation Was finally made Our road to freedom Was finally paved Two centuries have past And some choose to ignore How our eagle Began to soar This day isn’t about fire works It is a tribute Finally there was an end To this bold dispute We stood up and faced The current world power Victorious was the outcome This was our greatest hour To the warriors To the men To all I solute For this day is when We stood up and said no longer shall tyranny we will have to endure Freedom Was now finally secure We did prevail A day to be remembered For its epic scale

Copyright © | Year Posted 2006




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs