Aftershock atrocities after you left;
Apologies abundant amidst your regret.
Acquitted yourself, but I’ll never forget...
Beaten by brutality ’fore you bred bulbous boars,
Conquered by “cleansing”; cascading commodores;
Destructive diseases delivered death’s doors,
Everything extracted, as Europe explores.
Fought fierce fatality: now a fungal formality,
Grievous and gruesome tale for humanity.
Inanity igniting increased insanity,
Jingles “...justice for all” in jovial jejunity.
Kicking, Kindling and Killing: legality,
Land of liberty home of the slave.
Monotonous mundanity muddles mentality,
morality missing: must misbehave.
No-nonsense nationalism now the normality,
Omnipresent oppression; outdo or outbrave.
Perverse professionalism or perfect profanity;
The quintessential quarterback’s cave.
Ready, set, for restored reality,
Set sail all, who are sans superiority.
Totalitarianism triumphs with total tenacity,
Uniformed ugliness, undermining urbanity.
Victors’ vitality victimizes with volcanity;
Warmongers wish in woeful whimsicality.
Xenophobes want copies: hair with xanthic similarity:
Yobbish youths yelling for zestful zealotry.
American tears have fallen and will
Continue to bawl until the land is still.
Listen to the wind as she tells her tale,
For the vales are frail as its people wail.
27th January 2017
Word Challenge Contest by Silent One
Copyright © Nicola Byrne | Year Posted 2017
America the Free ~ America the Brave ~
Freedom with price Capitalism attacked
the many taken hearts broken still
one World try to rebuild
sadness and tears fall hard with fears
guilt by association many accused still
souls evaporated shattered dreams
tears fall on innocence left with anger
The proud fearless knew the inevitable
policeman fireman many lives lost
grieving does not stop 12 years later
New York city once proud & shameless
refusing to let fears in protecting ours
left in shock still question's unanswered
nothing learned nothing gained
ready to attack many left behind
anger greets denial anger meets rage
unacceptable still refusing new love
wanting days to rewind let us go back in time
acceptance allowing the victims leave in peace
the brave taken young leaving us sadly old
haunting dreams lost spirits dwell
no answers to hate never forgetting that day
Evil entered suddenly unforgiving fate
entering our City we stand with the fallen
How to fix how do we Change
This can be read many different ways ~ This is a poem I am so proud to write ~
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
These are just a few words about reality,
as Muslims struggle each day with individuality.
What is a Muslim and from whence does he come?
Like you and me, he is born into the world. because of two someone's.
Many of us grew up knowing prejudice in life,
I was gangly, naive, ever given to strife.
Raised as a Christian I never knew what it meant,
As my Muslim friend, how people could vent.
My younger years were spent playing baseball you see,
They were a team of Puerto Ricans, not one Muslim to be.
My Polish heritage was always the butt of a joke,
It was infinitely small, compared to a Muslim's yoke.
My parent's generation was prejudiced in mind,
To Blacks, and Jews, Hindus, Muslims, Hispanics and people of all kind.
I, being naive, never even recognized the strife,
to which these peoples had been subjected to in life.
From experience I learned to treat each person individually,
slowly finding out that that was how they treated me.
Oh, I can say I've met both good and bad,
and the underlying theme is all so sad.
For it seems that we put labels to people like cans of beans,
stick them on a shelf, never tasting their means.
But once you open that can and taste the fare,
you may very well find yourself going back there.
We have our share of detractors in this world of our choice,
but Muslims are not the ones against whom we should give voice.
They are as decent, hard working, and loving as you or me.
They only want what is best for their family.
I pray to my Christian God for Muslims though they know it not,
because they are people that He has not forgot.
Words between man and God are private you see,
that is what connects man to his Deity.
But in every society there is always some remark made aloud,
about how this group or that group has no right to be allowed.
What, I wonder, gives them the right to speak that thought?
Unless it was the freedoms for which this country fought.
And I am sure that the Muslims fought with us too,
so they could have an American dream or two.
So, I think I'll stay in my own naive little way,
and keep those prejudices well at bay.
I won't care whether the next person is Red or Yellow, Black or White,
I won't care if he's Hindu or Christian, Jewish or Zen on sight.
Yes, I'll like the next Muslim I see,
I'm going to smile at them, and I bet they smile back at me!
Copyright © Dan Cwiak | Year Posted 2017
Fear is what they clothe them in.
Fear of losing their life because of one mistake.
Fear of losing their life because an officer is having
a bad day.
Some say it's not racism;
"It's police brutality."
Whatever you call it, I can't
help but ask "where is humanity?"
Mothers weeping because they're losing their sons.
Teaching them to fight back with silence
but that is no weapon compared to a gun.
Six feet under, leaving families to fight for justice
over their lives.
Societies getting tired of it all-
starting riots and constructing strikes.
How many more time will history repeat itself?
Or are we still writing [his]tory , using coverups
All lives matter despite of their race.
All lives matter despite their mistakes.
In times such as these justice will demand to be served.
No matter how chaotic, crazy, or obscured.
Life is a gift, one that we should all treasure.
Because all lives matter and we need to protect them;
no matter the measure.
Copyright © Amber Binford | Year Posted 2014
In Galilee, his voice was heard.
In Nazareth, he rested his spirit.
Cana is where he was first miraculous.
In Galilee, the crowds were like a flock of sheep.
But his crucifixion in Judea defeated their image.
My beloved Jesus knew his faith.
At the last supper, he told his disciples about his last days.
Oh Lord of greatness
How they hung you on the cross
Arms stretched to the limit
Not mindful (of it) at all.
The people of Galilee embraced your ministry.
In Judea, they crowded to witness your crucifixion.
Your mother cried out but
She knew that you were seeking your crown.
In Heaven, you reside.
You were raised from the dead.
Lord Jesus, you will meet your disciples once again.
Your resurrection was angelical.
An angel appeared to your disciples.
They were informed of your forgoing.
In Galilee, as promised, they would see you once more.
The prophecy of the birth of Christ is destiny that forfeited his life.
Penned March 20, 2015!
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2015
Under cumulus clouds, grew cauliflowers.
He planted them with love because I adorn them when they were harvested to the table of healthy man, my husband; sons; and brothers.
All were vegetable farmers of California.
We woman loved cooking for them.
They say there never was a better meal than this one every time we cooked.
That was each day of the yield.
Spirits were high as hell.
The profits were insurmountable.
They increased each year.
The sunshine brightly and this eased our fears.
We became wealthy and retired well.
Our children went off into the world.
Both sons became Attorneys of Law.
Penned on October 30, 2014!
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014
~Veteran's Day Tribute~
It's Veteran's day
Today we honour all the
Living military veterans
For they do
And their sacrifice
We're so proud of all
American Veterans from all wars
They keep us safe, free.
Dorian Petersen Potter
~On November, 11, 2015... here in the USA, we celebrate "Veteran's Day"
Please remember and pay honor to all our American men and women in the Military, the Air force, the Navy etc...from the very long past, to the present and future generations. They sacrifice a lot and some have sacrificed it all ...they give it all they have... and too many have given it their all....their own very lives.
Please support all our American troops in any way you can not just this day, today, but everyday.
Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2015
AN AURORA ALOUETTE - RAIN DOGS
the morning dewdrops
the sap on the trees
the wind blowing pleasingly
a stroll I will take
a joyous promenade
with my umbrella and cane.
rain oh rain will show
dawn is to enjoy.
gloomy not, away I go
pouring cats and dogs.
dulcetly I sing “Rain Dogs.”
Penned on August 31, 2014!
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014
They came from "farawayland"
to arms held open wide
welcomed without question by the "Man"
The starving and the homeless
can't begin to understand this
how could someone even do this to their clan
We try to feed and clothe them
give health and shelter freely
and we're just talking legal citizens
The influx of the immmigrants
and the millions of illegals
that have crossed our borders who knows even when
There are no jobs to give them
our health care's straining badly
some diseases that they bring could devastate
They try their best to hide here
while staying in the shadows
by scamming us they jeopardize our fate
Bleeding hearts help hide them
treated better than our Veterans
they snicker and they tell us that we're cruel
As our President stands proudly
ensuring he will protect them
America knows he plays us for the fool.....
Copyright © Pete Yuhas | Year Posted 2016
The elections are rolling around,
And it's obvious to see,
The more one tares another down,
Lays claim to Victory!
Each is right and only them,
Can save us from our debts.
Enhance our life, correct all wrongs,
And throw away regrets!
So get in line to cast your Vote,
And do it with great pride.
You're sure to pick a good one,
Cause none of them have lied!
Copyright © Judy Konos | Year Posted 2016
They're getting old now.
They congregate only a few blocks south of where I live.
40 to 50 years ago they were in Vietnam.
Among the homeless they usually move slower,
The weariness of age and of other things,
of drug use and alcohol,
lost loves and families,
bent and broken paths.
You hear about the "thousand yard stare,"
where blank verse and silence show they're not actively seeing,
though now most of the immediate trauma is gone,
they are just lives forever changed,
eyes both hardened and softened,
former aspects compromised,
the hand of war still upon them.
My family had a big house in Youngstown, Ohio,
with a room rented to a nice young guy named Dale.
It was cool because he would throw the football
with me and my brothers, and talk to us.
He had short hair and a little bit of acne.
In 1967 he went to Vietnam, killed within a week.
They tell stories of night patrols, moving through water,
streams rivers rain, mud and sodden clothes,
100 degrees in the shade, bugs, infection, panic,
running through the jungle firing their M-16 behind them,
of the Vietnamese people suffering, the dead lying along the road.
Arriving in-country, the heat blasting you
when you get off the plane, you are told
look left, look right, and then that one of the two men
you just saw will not return.
Our country was then conflicted, and it was harder coming home,
even though the orange fires and the smoke were far away,
you lost a limb and they didn't appreciate it.
There were a lot of booby-traps set,
by the enemy, by the bureaucracy, by the times.
I wasn't old enough to go and I'm not sorry.
Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2016
Our college professor was waxing excitedly
in the bored classroom: “Our mass media
—America's great Fourth Estate—is an
unconquerable force for good in the world
with an unrivaled power to tell the truth!”
A dejected classmate interjected: “Yes,
but a force that's dirty and evil,” stirring
up a commotion in the hushed classroom.
Indeed, wasn't it our mass media which
destroyed a hapless President Carter?
Turned Sarah Palin into a ridiculed pariah?
Ignored Ralph Nader and Bernie Sanders?
Now our news media are demonizing Trump,
calling him a “hater” and “Putin's puppet”
in an anti-Trump orgy of vilification.
Our mass media feed the world with
a few crumbs of truth and half-truth—
along with countless tons of deceptions,
lies and truly Goebbelsian propaganda.
Isn't it our news media which are
brainwashing us that our Constitution
supposedly guarantees every Sunni Muslim
around the world an automatic and
unimpeded entry into America? Or that
Americans who support Trump are
"racists," "xenophobes," "sexists,"
"Islamophobes" and "homophobes"?
Our news media are a mighty force to
be reckoned with, but they are a force
that is corrupt, crooked, and dirty!
They lie, cheat, and twist the truth—
but they are usually so proud of it.
Copyright © Ross Vassilev | Year Posted 2016
My god you call us to be faithful
and while we are not always successful,
me not always with fervor,
do not turn a deaf ear to my prayer.
They come into our country in deceit,
striking blows against the innocent.
They take lives that are not theirs to take.
We have gone to protect the faultless.
Now they come to murder the blameless.
Returning our goodness with vileness.
Allow Satan to punish their immorality.
When they are judged, let the verdict be guilty.
Let their punishment match the grief they have stirred.
Widow's black for all the curs.
I praise my God Yahweh,
for he is in my heart always.
Let us not seek retaliation,
but let my Lord be our retribution.
Publish "Simply Me: Poems"
available paperback and e-book on amazon.
That I have to post this upsets me:
My poems are copyright. I am sharing my
poems for you to read not for you to
post willy-nilly to a website, in
your newsletter or anywhere else with out
my permission. I am available, leave me a
message. Especially to those who change
the name of my poem and not give proper
credit. You should be ashamed!
Copyright © Alesia Leach | Year Posted 2014
"Franklin, why do you want such a fat, ugly bird?
Are you getting senile, or just being absurd?"
"Clearly, Mr. Adams, you are not being a friend.
My dove, not the turkey, will win in the end.
Though Franklin's turkey may be our most native bird,
your eagle, as well, will not be the final word.
A sign of Peace is what we need,
to show other nations of what we heed."
"Are you nuts, Thomas, for saying such?
Only my turkey can represent what we need so much!"
"Have both of you gone so daft in the head,
not to see that my eagle should be the one instead?
It has power and majesty that our nation new,
can be ascribed to the birds advocated by you.
We want Peace, but must remember this war,
so how can we petition a dove to complete this chore?
As for the turkey, I know the pride it shows,
but I just can't get over that thing on its nose.
So my Eagle is the one without a ruse,
and the best bird for the Congress to choose.
It can show our intent for Peace with an olive branch,
is native as the turkey, with a prideful stance.
Freedom will come and be represented by
my Eagle's unlimited flight in the sky.
Ever watchful for both Peace and War,
and without the turkey's nasal sore."
"We both know, Thomas, that Adams is correct.
His bird is beyond the circumspect."
"Yes, Franklin, I have always known
that my dove and your turkey would not have flown."
"Then are we agreed, gentlemen, that we three as one,
my Eagle is the bird that has hatched and won?"
Just thinking about this conversation made me weak,
especially when I had to give it a tweak.
But the Eagle has represented us well,
both in Peace and War, as history will tell.
I have obviously voted with Adams on his choice,
It has given our country a singular voice.
It is strong, majestic, and watchful to be sure,
and stood the test of time with great enure.
One more thing I'll say about the symbol we branded,
What would we have thought if Armstrong had said, " The Turkey has landed"?
Copyright © Dan Cwiak | Year Posted 2015
A SOILDERS THOUGHTS
I cannot sleep tonight
rarely can I sleep in the day
My grip is tight and my eyes alert
so you can have a safe place to lay;
There are eyes that watch my every move
eyes of fiery red
Hoping to catch me slip an inch
hoping to see me dead;
From door to door I knock real hard
hoping that they will let let me in
My life in constant danger
as I search for these ruthless men;
Everyone speaks the same
for it's I who's in a foreign land
The only difference between right and wrong
is when they raise up their evil hand;
I realize that I am not on vacation
as I stare deep into their mirror
I realize that I have a job to do
And that is to fight against this terror....
Copyright © Edward Hill | Year Posted 2010
Our shadows hold many secrets,
If our walls could talk,
they'd choose silence.
Shades of promises broken
And shades theft and violence.
Heavy hands one day will tend
To the graves of fools,
Pray for them
Then blanket them,
With viverant noxious blooms.
Notorious names now
Censored by blood, tears
And among them one day
Sadly, will be the names of us.
Copyright © Charles Pullen | Year Posted 2016
My Facebook friends,
They are those I describe as universal family.
For, some bring inspiration to what I write
As they motivate what I do daily,
The good ones are like the sugary sprite.
My Facebook friends,
Show concern to what’s on your mind status.
That’s due to their responsible commentary
It determines the vital point of focus,
Obviously, that becomes secondary.
My Facebook friends,
Mostly, live in their countries of the continent.
But, they’re often seen on the social media
Some don’t have enough but they’re content,
I guess, they do like to read as well the Wikipedia.
My Facebook friends,
Bring to bear, some life’s emotions.
In view of what I read on their page-wall
It may be due to some hurts and frustrations,
However, the religious ones make firm decision not to fall.
My Facebook friends,
Make options to block and remove.
Thus, those they later describe as predator
Above all, there are those to share love,
When it comes to the ones they closely monitor.
My Facebook friends,
Have what it takes when it comes to support.
Therefore, the essence of this global village
Some get involve and engage in terms of good report,
With gender equality and positive mindset we can manage.
Copyright © Ike Boat | Year Posted 2017
~The Red The White And The Blue~
(Free Flow Style)
Let's all stand by the red
The white and the blue,
There she stands in all her
And in all her colors so
She may be burnt and by some
People torn apart
But there she still stands
very, very proud,
In the houses, in the buildings
Always untouched in the wind
And in the hearts of the brave
The proud and the free,
She's much loved by me and
All of us
That believe in her cause and
So she will always stand in
Our hearts, no matter what,
In all her radiant colors of
Red, white and blue....
Flying higher and very proud
In all the hearts of the brave
And the free,
And all the Ones that we love
And defend Liberty.
Dorian Petersen Potter
Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2016
"When I consider Southern Poetry, the soft breeze of grace and majesty of the Old South comes back, like a long ago paradise of flowers, cotton fields, hanging trees and song birds, a sweat savor. Christian Southern Gentlemen and their Ladies Fair, their majestic columned plantation homes; happy children playing before them. But I am reminded also of Confederate Warriors suited for battle, in long gray lines, defending our Southern homeland. Southern Poetry allows me to relive as it were, our history, heritage and culture, like a weary warrior returning for a respite from the ravages of war, but for a moment, return to the splendor, grace and the nobility, a collective memory buried deep within the heart of the South."
My memories are endless.
Copyright © Edna Carroll | Year Posted 2015
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- In memory of the La Vegas shooting victims –
Copyright © Bernard Chan | Year Posted 2017
I wrote this poem back in 2004, as the U.S. could not find any weapon of mass destruction in Iraq.
The Oil The Call
The Oil The Thirst
Blood Runs First
Oil For Goal
The Oil The Gush
The Oil The Light
Blood Runs Bright
Oil For Us
The Oily Church Claims
In Juice we Trust
And Oil Is Our New Mantra
Bring Grief To Them
Iraq we'll Crush
And Oil Bless America
Rating to be advised
Coming soon at a gas station near you
Copyright © Alain Boucher | Year Posted 2017
My alegence is pledged to one who blows in the wind We are blessed to be in the Republic for which it stands
One nation, under God always, as our flag blows in the wind I have this treasured piece, folded and neatly tucked away
I must keep it secure, assuring that it never goes astray Since I have owned it, never has it seen the light of day
Perhaps someday, I shall set it free to blow in the wind I'd love to see it flap its wings, but I don't know when
This prized possession of mine has thirteen stripes Seven stripes are clothed in the hardiness of red
Six of the stripes are beautifully arrayed in purity white I must secure a flag pole and watch it blow in the wind
I am the grateful and the proud holder of my 48 state flag May God wrap us all in the blue color of vigilance, perseverance, and justice.
08192017FBTGPSContest, Blowing In The Wind, Nicola Byrne, 4P
Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2017
Why is my skin color different?
Did God make me this way?
When he made me, did he have
intentions on me being a slave?
And I thought we were all brothers,
including all the ones of different colors.
But why are they beating and hurting the others.
Someone save me, I didn't choose this life.
These scars, they've carved me with the sharpest
All I have is my faith.
Because if I'd held on to anything else
it'd be theres to take.
What is it that I ask for?
Equality, I preach.
Something small to you,
but makes a difference
Whipping, spitting, hitting on me.
Raping our women in your wife's sheets.
Taking our children and turning them into workers.
No sense of empathy, grief or composer.
For the brotha' on my left and my sista' on the right,
with the courage that I hold I will continue to fight.
You have taken away my freedom, and most of my life.
But what you have failed to obtain is my state of mind.
Go ahead work my body, and do all that you please.
This is just a shell anyway, it's not coming with me.
You spit, you laugh, thinking you gained the world.
You think you have power because you've raped a young girl.
Stand tall sir with all of that pride.
And go ahead and hold it until the day that you die.
But your day will come when you'll fall to your knees.
Feeling the burn on your body from the whips you've given me.
"The LORD is my shelter,"
I continue to say.
While my soul goes up as God takes me away.
I wish you peace with smile on my face,
knowing that God teaches the fullness of grace.
Copyright © Amber Binford | Year Posted 2014
This Memorial Day…
We salute every soldier who’s
served this great nation.
And offer a heart of thanks
We salute each member
of our armed forces.
And are thankful for their
efforts and resources!
We salute the many who
protect our borders too.
We’d be in trouble…
If not for people like YOU!
We salute every son and
daughter lost in a war.
YOU are what serving this
country is meant for!
We salute the officers who’ve
guided our women and men.
Our prayers are with you!
And our love from within!
We salute our veterans!
Wherever they may be!
Those who served on
land, air and sea!
Offering prayer to the
Lord is our belief…
That he will guide our
As we observe Memorial Day this year…
Let’s offer our soldiers
love, hope and cheer…
May God bless them in
all they endeavor
And his peace be with them
today and forever!!
By Jim Pemberton 05/21/10
Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2014
A FOREIGNER ASKED THIS QUESTION OF ME
“WHERE CAN I IN U.S. FIND SOLDIER TO SEE?”
HIS ENGLISH WAS BROKEN, BUT CLEARLY RECEIVED
YET, HOW COULD I BEST EXPLAIN WHAT I BELIEVED
THE ANSWER I GAVE TO THIS QUESTIONABLE TASK
SURPRISED HIM ACCORDING TO WHAT HE HAD ASKED
I SAID, “AN AMERICAN SOLDIER WAS MORE….
THAN SOMEONE ENLISTED OR SENT OFF TO SHORE”
“AN AMERICAN SOLDIER HAS MORE TO BE SEEN….
THAN A MAN OR A WOMAN IN CAMOUFLAGE GREEN”
HIS QUESTION HAD MADE ME LOOK DEEPER WITHIN
BECOMING AWARE OF HOW BLESSED I HAD BEEN
I POINTED MY FINGER AROUND SO HE’D SEE
THAT ALL THOSE AROUND US WE’RE SOLDIERS TO ME
INCLUDING THAT SMALL CHILD NEXT DOOR PLAYING BALL
THAT PERSON SALUTING THE FLAG STANDING TALL
THAT FATHER AND SON OUTSIDE PLAYING TOGETHER
THAT MOTHER AND DAUGHTER EMBRACING EACH OTHER
THAT DOCTOR OR NURSE SHOWING CARE TO THE ILL
THAT ELDERLY VETERAN-QUIET AND STILL
THAT CASE WORKER HELPING THOSE WITH SPECIAL NEEDS
THAT MINISTER PRAYING FOR ALL TO BELIEVE
THAT BANKER AND POSTMAN WHO WORKS ALL DAY LONG
THAT ARTIST AND SINGER WHO PAINTS US A SONG
THAT SINGLE MOM DOING THE BEST THAT SHE COULD
THAT TEEN WHO CONTINUES TO LIVE LIKE HE SHOULD
THAT AMERICAN IMMIGRANT LEGALLY HERE
THAT MAN IN HIS WHEELCHAIR YEAR AFTER YEAR
THAT PROTESTER MARCHING AND SHOUTING HIS VIEWS
THAT SPOKESPERSON GIVING THE SIX O’CLOCK NEWS
THAT CHRISTIAN WHO’S KNEELING AND PRAYING ALONE
THAT MOTHER OR WIFE WORKING DAILY AT HOME
THAT WOMAN WITH CANCER IS ALSO A FIGHTER
THAT WIDOW WHO CLINGS TO HER MEMORIES TIGHTER
THAT MERCHANT THAT SELLS US OUR FOOD AND OUR OIL
THAT CHILD BEING BORN ON AMERICAN SOIL
THEY ALL ARE AMERICANS DOING THEIR PART
AND IN SOME SMALL WAY THEY ARE SOLDIERS AT HEART
I ENDED MY TALK BECAUSE HOW HE WAS STARING
AS IF WITH CONFUSION AT WHAT I WAS SHARING
HE THEN, IN HIS CUSTOM, STOOD STRAIGHT WHILE HE NODDED
LOOKED AT ME AND QUIETLY-SOFTLY APPLAUDED
I THEN SHED A TEAR WHEN HE SPOKE THIS TO ME
“AN AMERICAN SOLDIER IN YOU I CAN SEE”
HE WALKED AWAY AND APPEARED TO HAVE FOUND CLOSURE
WHILE I STOOD THERE PRAISING GOD FOR THE REAL SOLDIER
THAT REAL ONES NOW SERVING RIGHT HERE AND ABROAD
I STAND AND SALUTE YOU AND LOUDLY APPLAUD
TO THOSE WHO ARE SERVING AND THOSE WHO HAVE DIED
FOR THOSE WHO ONCE SERVED AND REMEMBER WITH PRIDE
THE STRUGGLES OF WAR TO KEEP FREEDOM WON’T CEASE
FOR FREEDOM EXIST WHILE YOU FIGHT TO BRING PEACE
BECAUSE OF YOUR SACRIFICE GIVEN EACH DAY
I’M ABLE TO LIVE IN THIS GREAT U.S.A
THE RED, WHITE AND BLUE IS WHAT SHINES IN YOUR EYES
Copyright © gregory boyer | Year Posted 2013