Reputation Proves No Country

December 13, 2011
By WillGunterPoetry BRONZE, Huttig, Arkansas
WillGunterPoetry BRONZE, Huttig, Arkansas
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Fair winds prove not a good sailor,
Machines prove not a good tailor,
Thin trees prove not a strong axe,
Massacres prove not courageous acts,
Rolling hills prove no mountain climber,
And quiet waves prove no ocean liner,
High tithe proves not a preacher,
Best of one proves not a winner,
Office held proves not a leader,
Legislation proves not the keener,
Free land proves not the free,
Elbow room proves no simplicity,
Lowered taxes proves not rich,
The IRS proves not a snitch,
Rhyming words prove no poet,
Long lines prove no Sonnet,
Speeches prove no President,
Words cut no deficit


Voted salary proves the coward,
Backstabbing proves the soured
Rising debt proves the lazy,
Doing nothing proves the crazy,
Appeasing ears proves the liar,
Veto's often returning fire,
Promised peace proves the scandal,
When military grows no handle...
Remember well, lest we forget,
As we all come for nation's roulette,
And satisfied we not to guard,
A foolish price for disregard...

That homage earned is hung on poles,
Stars and stripes that once were told,
Would never grow too weak, too old...
When was the promise sold?
When did our hearts grow cold,
For orphaned nations, lost souls?
While Darkness seems to e'r take hold,
The tightening grip grows uncontrolled,
The few, the proud, the ever bold,
Giving up their all, withhold,
That we were ones who called and tolled...

Their labors all we care not for,
Their sacrifice we must ignore,
'Cause we can't pay a fraction of,
The price it takes, and all thereof,
To speak the name of freedom's child,
Ignorance and spoiled beguiled,
Of no sure path to follow now,
Since we've abandoned our nation's crowns...

Giving money proves the dumb,
When money given doesn't exist,
And races sworn but never run,
Prove that we still fall for tricks...
War for freedom proves the noble,
Brave hearts that fight for peace,
But native souls prove more horrible,
When they cry the war to cease...
The war that wages for what is good,
The cost is high but it must be done!
Cannot the natives see past neighborhoods,
To countries holding our heads with guns?

Trust of the pack is wearing away,
We took their word, but: Et tu, Brute?


Forefather's payment not,
Meant to e'r be forgot,
Strung up to hang on poles,
Stars and stripes are for the old

The author's comments:
I wrote this in a response to the impression upon me that much of the population of our country had lost their values and beliefs that our country was originally founded upon.

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