America

Sebastian P

America

My country you should unify like glue

You should feel like a bond being made in a factory

Like the smooth shining metal of the hood of a car made in Chicago

Or the rigid cement binding of the intertwining buildings from  the skyline of New York

You are a broken sword that used to slice through the predicaments in your country

My country you should look like a beautiful beach side view in the scorching summers in Florida

The glistening massive corn fields covered in dew in Nebraska

I believe you could be a perfect country

You should look like an elegant ballerina floating on the stage

America an angel with a broken wing

My country and the sounds of patriotism through the streets on the Fourth of July

Sounds of trumpets should be blasting through the streets as if it was Louisiana everywhere

The chirping of an exotic multitude of birds flocking through South Carolina

For my country I would play a masterpiece

America an orchestra without a composer

My country covered in the odors of a sweet apple pie baked on a crisp Falls eve

The waft of lobster and seafood masking all other scents on the shore of Maine

Texas, the home of a sizzling steamy brisket laid upon the charcoal covered stoves

You should be the smell of amazingness and victory

America a police bloodhound with a malfunctioning nose

My country that has hot dogs and cheeseburgers that pop in your mouth from Massachusetts

The juicy crunch of a shard of watermelon on the scorching afternoon in the summer

Idaho the home of the crispy crack of peanuts and potatoes for years to come

You should be a pie made up of diversity but unity

America a country so beautiful yet so divided