America
America
By: Tom Wright
1/28/99
America, so beautiful
what does she mean to me?
Foremost, I can worship God,
in a land where I'm free.
A land where opportunities,
exist within my reach.
I'm free to pick and choose at will,
holding office, or to teach.
My only limitations have been,
those which I allowed.
She's given me tools for learning,
with technology she's endowed.
I'm free to travel her great land,
from sea to shining sea.
Her fields of grain so gold,
God, painted just for me.
The beauty of her great outdoors,
still means so very much.
And never do I fail to see
in it, God's, wondrous touch.
Her majestic mountain peaks,
that for some distance rise.
Or grandeur of her National Parks,
are to me, no great surprise.
Her everglades, her swamps,
giving way to arid lands.
Her caverns and her canyons,
would not be, but by God's, hands.
Her Flag, Old Glory, flying proud,
and from generations past;
Crimson stained with warriors blood,
that her freedoms would forever last.
She's crowded and crime ridden,
seeming to crumble from within.
Morality is now at an all time low,
at our every turn is sin.
Our highest office holder in the land,
for impeachable offenses he's been tried.
And though guilty still remains,
content in his sins, to abide.
A shameful role model he has been,
for the entire world to see.
But when a majority condones and approves,
it makes a statement about you and me.
I pray I shant see our God,
bring America down from within.
But history bears out, God, has destroyed,
many nations because of sin.
But despite these many faults,
America's the worlds best place to be.
Where openly we can serve the one,
who, for now, grants this liberty.
Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2019
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