Have We Forgotten

 

From the start

we were a bold child,

undaunted and wild;

undefiled

by the structured chains

of a developed bureaucracy.

 

You see, beginnings are important.

They fasten the past

to the present―what is and what was,

and show us the scars

that were won in the battles

for our star-spangled dreams.

 

They tell us of plain men,

the rich and the poor

stepping from stereotype boxes to ensure

the unity of a newborn nation, a people

gasping for air.

 

And with each new intake and out,

their quiet breath

became a roaring shout

of “liberty or death! liberty or death!”

 

We fought for what we hoped for

but dreamt of what we knew;

that all men are created equal, that

Every

Pounding

Question

faced with rejection

would only feed the flames of rebellion,

A War of Revolution.

 

And so 13 forces joined together,

weather-worn boots and coats of leather,

a makeshift army for a makeshift nation

standing up with solemn declaration.

 

Born by the blood and the ink

In ‘76

Over 200 years,

and we’ve come to this.

 

We’re broken.

We’re getting worse.

 

But our job isn’t simply to rehearse

the scattered complaints of a

dying nation,

expecting a golden salvation on a silver platter,

or perhaps just the latter

to stare at our reflection and

wonder how we got so wrong.

 

Our problem is passivity,

quenching every flame of activity

that would dare to make a difference

in this dormant entity

 

Have we forgotten where we came from,

What we believed in,

And how our people stepped out of their kingdom of comfort

to commit to change

with their hands and their feet?

 

So how will we meet this call from our founders?

The chance is ours today,

to stand or to stay.

Do we forget, or do we fight?

This poem is about: 
My country
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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