Don'T Tread On Me
What is a life when you’re constrained,
your words bound up within your brain,
from fear of punishment without,
from tyrants or folks without doubt?
So all that matters can’t be said,
it makes the soul and spirit dead,
when men have minds that shake the globe
it’s proper that these thoughts be known,
so we can learn, grow strong still,
say what matters and feel fulfilled,
loved or hated words must be free,
I’ll say my piece, don’t tread on me.
What is a man who can’t defend
from those who would make his life end?
when all pretense is stripped away,
and force will have it’s final say,
what is he then if he’s disarmed,
when he’s bought into sophists charm?
Your noble words cannot shoot back
against those who all honor lack,
there’s reason evil comes for guns,
they need you helpless to have fun.
That's why I own, shoot frequently
to remind them: don’t treat on me.
What is a man who cannot say
that the universe works this way,
that his belief must run this course,
what must be loved and be deplored?
To determine by his own mind
the truth that he sets out to find,
what God he believes makes things so,
which faith answers what man can’t know.
To be demeaned for what you think,
cancelled from life and made to slink,
Is the ultimate tyranny,
I won’t comply, don’t tread on me.
Why should a man labor and work
only then to be called a jerk
for wanting to spend what he earned,
live by the lessons he has learned?
When folks say in open debate
‘property belongs to the state,’
the state that burns its enemies,
millions in the last century...
Our property keeps us alive,
cuts the powerful down to size,
on this small patchy my will shall be,
go mind your own, don’t tread on me.
What is a man who can’t pass on
his values on what’s write and wrong?
Who cannot have a wife beloved,
have daughters cute and boyos rough?
In a world where some morons think
That mankind should just go extinct,
That bugs and critters matter more
And humankind should be abhorred?
The very thing we value most
Is the family of which we boast
Our only immortality
Must keep going, don’t tread on me.
And in the end your very life,
the great sorrows and the delights,
are not your own if you can’t chose,
have your own space to win or lose.
We’ve seen slaves made in many ways,
by force or lies or whips that flay,
bound up by those who dominate,
unable to appreciate
or realize what they could become,
never truly become someone,
you’re not alive if you're not free,
don’t push your luck, don’t tread on me.
Copyright © David Welch | Year Posted 2023
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