Citizens Are
Citizens Are
By the numbers,
1,2,3... count them all you see.
From here and there and everywhere,
we are one.
America.
The land of plenty.
But what does that mean?
There is a story,
and a truth,
and freedom on paper...
that still waves
high above... in the air,
encircling her flag.
Men, women, and children
they came from every land.
Some traveled by boats,
road horses and even ran rails.
They took steamships...
sailboats, and longboats,
as passengers,
and some by chains,
unwillingly taken,
sold by their own kind,
into evil,
tricked and traded,
none spared.
They all had their own reasons,
one way or another...
but they knew together,
they were made better as a whole.
America,
the land of the free,
the brave, and heroic.
The ones that jump into the fire,
when trouble draws near.
The ones that know that faith,
has no fear at all,
"In God We Trust"
more than just words,
a way of life,
a way of living,
a way of being,
all that you can be,
because you can,
because there are no longer
restraints to weigh you down,
and the very love of being free,
fills the people,
with hope.
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment