Best Politicalblue Poems
There are those that say we are past our prime,
And even say America is dead—
There are dark clouds that gather in our time—
It seems the red, white and blue has turned red.
It has crept upon us, oh so slowly—
Seems we lose another freedom each day—
But we take it, and all that’s unholy—
Losing beliefs and culture along the way.
Like that big lobster boiled in cold water,
They turn the heat up slowly till we’re done—
They say the constitution is fodder,
And we don’t need all our rights or a gun.
They tell us it’s change we can believe in,
And that we should all be so full of hope—
That we’re all socialists now my good friend,
And if you don’t believe, you’re just a dope.
Some blame America for bad things past—
And say that down the wrong path we’ve been lead—
But we need to stand for the things that last—
Before the red, white and blue has turned red.
They’re giving money out by the train load—
Promise jobs and chickens in every pot—
Just as long as we smile; do what we’re told—
While like fish, down from the head we all rot.
In names of fairness they’re going to stop
True talk on radio and internet—
And to progressive views we all will flock—
Liberal lobotomies without regret.
So hail our ruler and the welfare state—
We have no need of that old bill of rights—
Yes, hail the new USSA – it’s great!
We’re all good Commies now without a fight!
Oh, say can you recall when we were free,
And the red, white and blue was not all red?
Can you remember how things used to be,
Back when before America was dead?
Through the struggle of her years
Through the tyranny of tears
She barefooted braved the sun
Breasting children upward to sky
The day beyond the blue horizon
Her songs masked sorrows from the eye.
Through the slanting slivers of rain
Through the quiet pangs of pain
Her hands were blistered in the care
Of histories with which she robed them
And when stars came late, no fear
Turned her back from the road she charted them
Through the rising tides of flood
Through her blood soaked in the mud
She stumbled but would not fall
Mettling heart with self belief, she
Gave God praise, and would not crawl
This woman forging iron history.
Let others see here white beaches or gold
Let see palm trees swaying stately and bold
Or waters like sapphire in the sun
I see my Jamaica, and her children laughing
This my country where blue mountains run
This my Jamaica from her Stony Gut rising.