From the start
we were a bold child,
undaunted and wild;
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
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
Over 200 years,
and we’ve come to this.
We’re getting worse.
But our job isn’t simply to rehearse
the scattered complaints of a
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?