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Eagle Meat
I get slanted looks when I wear the American flag, like I'm some kind of stars and striped carnival hag. There's reason millions are trying to get in it's because it's the greatest country that's ever been, so why shouldn't we the people be proud of that. It became great after correcting many sins of the past became a melting pot- has natural resources to fuel its hearth and God to feed its soul- but freedom comes at a cost, a million pans of blood for one nugget of liberty's gold. Talent and good intentions from every land forged together- unbreakable, indivisible... but not so much anymore-the art of sacrifice is fractured, everybody wants to inflate their bubble at the expense of others carve a moat fill it with pit bulls to guard their fancy new homes plant selfish banners, peel the gild from the soil of unity. There's more grabbers than givers sliding in, pushing jagged agendas greed and complacency is the beginning of our end. Vultures can smell division in our blood-from across the sea bouncing around the periphery, wading in to take a chunk of eagle meat. but the old eagle has a purple mountain full of fight left, it just has to wake up-so wake up eagle-WAKE UP! I get some slanted looks when I wear the American flag, I've never tasted buzzard meat but may soon get the chance.
Copyright © 2024 Anthony Biaanco. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs