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America, Home Of The Free

Oblivion. Pensive thought. An excruciating love. No, something less faded. The world's view casually recycled.

Mens' shouted pleas of forgiveness denied. The brook down yonder full of contentment. The same brook full of contentment discreetly destroyed.

A system developed to counteract conformity is mass-produced. And all the while, we, the people of America, remain. There is no other being for us to follow in masses.

Trabajamos en la ciudad that never sleeps, twenty-four hours a day. We hail despise Hitler and communistic countries of forced death and mass equality. Yet everyday one more person goes hungry, one more pulls the trigger, millions cry.

Three loaves of bread could feed five hundred people equally, and their bellies were full. Women watch their children flip through channels, comfortably settling for R-rated at the age of six.

He will hold the bible and in company of moonbeams, He will read to save His soul. Under the stars, a man and his wife will protect their newborn child from the plagues of poverty. A lone man, on the verge of happiness, jumps to the mass of dwindling souls beneath the blanket blue.

This, this is America, home of the brave, land of opportunities, or renewal; this is America, home of the free.

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