The End of Freedonia

America the DEAD

 

No feet stood before its coffin

No mourning was given

Nor a shed of a tear

 

Whose man has spoke of this soil being

 

G R E A T?

                          

         My ancestors painted the very colors of this…

        

…S t a r   S p a n g l e d   B a n n e r

 

 

The cold shade of blue

        like the beautiful Atlantic that coated the very pointy stars

 

were the eyes that lead my people to the free land

 

The long soft ropes of red

         like the topping cherry of American apple pie

                          

were the drips of blood that fell from their feet

 

And of course

          the white spaces of the flags veins…

                         The color of –

                                    O P P R E S I O N!

 

The greatness of this country?

Please answer me.

 

Because when PEACE and FAIRNESS is shared

                          

                  THE LONG KNIVES ARE ALWAYS IN REACH!

 

 

This country was never

         The land of the free

We are not free

         And never will be

 

So don’t give me a plate of sweets where YOU and I

              know its poison

                          

                           BUT

 

Knowledge IS free

It is within our reach now

So you

And me

…will no longer be rendered as slaves

 

                  therefore, we can go

                  beyond than what is given

 

Make this land yours

Why carry this flag

When you can give birth to a nation!

 

You to your mother to father to grandparents and to the very hills of the great ancestors who are resting in the skies of heaven

Fought for YOUR EXISTENCE

 

NOT THE FLAG OF DESPAIR AND DELUSION

 

So YES

         Freedom was never freedom!

         Burn this bloody banner to the ashes within the pits!

 

No changes do not need to be made

Only you make the change

By speaking UP

                                    I CAN!

I AM!

                                    I HAVE THE RIGHT!

 

           These words are scaring you

           Maybe these sounds are hostile to you as your eyes follow these lines

                                           

  But Reality

  Always

  Has

  The last Word                               

 

So many souls

So many sacrifices

So many tales

 

                                             So I can be here

                                             To live

                          

                                              To speak my story

 

                                          

 

-Jneyde S. Williams

This poem is about: 
My country
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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