Democracy of America

Democracy,....

When we cease
To be a democracy
By extension,
We cease to be a dream
Muffled in the seeds
Of division and muddled
In abstention in acumination
               ------
Only to wimpier without a sound
Which echoes to the name of a place?
Where the “Eagles” doth’ bound
And that is a place called “America”

Gary Fields
Poet, Author
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

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