America

A poem on the current America

America

America, is the land of the free,

or is it?

Our souls, seemingly sealed to Earth

Outside its decay!

Outside is our slavery’s shackles!

Shackled, sealed, sold and soiled

Spoiled to toil in trepedation.

Teary eyed, leering our fate.

Our destiny, trials and tribulation.

Save me from this Hell!

Salvation mot for tis heat!

Deliver me from shackles!

My soil is spoiled,

Heal my eyes so I can see,

Heal so I can hear my ear

Bring forth America, a Great Seer

Seer at Kell to ring the bell

The Bell’s seventh trumpet to tell…