As a citizen, would you not say
I should have freedom, rights? May
British be able to rule as they please,
to tax and treat unfairly? With ease
they force acts upon us, when
we should have say, and only then
do they have right to tax. Not
even vote do they allow us. Forgot
that we are citizens? Have they
the nerve to treat us as their prey?

And the sugar we love dearly
they’ve come to toll. Severely
taxed it by three cents. And with
the Sugar Act, we throw no fit.
We complain and grimace. No,
we don’t fight back. But know
that ‘tis unjust, and ‘tis unfair.
And how foolish we are, to swear
that change will come but do not go
to insure that things will happen so.

With the come of the Stamp Act,
we fight, we’re angry. The fact
that we pay for something so unjust,
that’s been tax free for years. Must
we pay extra for every single sheet
of paper, hurting businesses? Replete
are they of money yet, as we, fed
up with them, their taxes? Dread,
did they, that we’ll react in force,
as the Stamp Act Congress took its course?

Now the Townshend Acts arrive,
new taxes forced upon us. Strive
must we to overcome them, showing
protests, finding fault and knowing
we should fight; glass, lead, paints
paper, and tea so dear. Complaints
prove useful though. In time, debris
is all that’s left of dire tolls, but tea
still taxed. Unhappily, the numbers grew
of the troops sent to us, to subdue.

How dare they slay even a soul,
let alone five colonists? Control
they have, but not the right to kill
even if they may receive a thrill
from doing so. Why, we had snow
and they had guns, unjust. Although
they say it was our fault, one can’t
be sure. They may go on and rant,
it is their word against our word,
propaganda. A massacre occurred.