Land of the Free and Divided

A poem about America, I know, a little too early for Fourth of July, but true patriotism owns no date.

We all have stood at the flagpole.

With one hand over our chest,

but with pride in our heart,

And we say the pledge that

stirs the nation, and lets loose tears.

Black and white.

Indian and Hispanic.

Asian and Dominican.

Straight and gay.

Gay and straight.

Although the path may

not be straight, haha

ignore my pun, but

it is meant to be 

done.

We give labels to the obvious.

Some born out of common knowledge,

some born out of verbal abuse.

America. A land that used to be full

of hard working individuals set on

making a great people greater,

are more interested in making

a strong opinion stronger.

While the common man is set

to the wayside, left to starve.

Our America. Not white America,

or black America, but America.

Lest we forget that fallen blood

has no color, we are all united

by liberty and patriotism.

Our America.

Divided into columns

that are forefathers

feared and even tried tried tried and tried

their best to prevent, 

because they knew what would follow,

the destruction of the common man,

swallowed into the hollow.

The hollow of the pit of self made destruction.

The hollow of the pit of denying self construction.

The hollow of the pit where evil dwells and is welcomed.

The hollow of the pit where evil dwells and isn't feared.

The hollow of the pit which is darker than it appeared. 

My America. My America is great. My America is strong. My America is mighty. My America is divided. My America is fallen. My America is stricken. My America is bigoted. My America is racist. My America is imperfect. But my America is great.