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The Forgotten Torch

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Though the Atlantic waves crash ever strong,
Liberty stands with her arm stretched long.
Bearing that great torch of democracy,
No intruding wave can reach her flame.

While no wave could claim that majestic lady,
The rains put on her sullen sheets.
In her earliest days once red,
She’s now been dressed in cloaks of green.

Once covered in the blood of liberation’s cause,
The sacrifice of those founding few,
The tears of those who first toiled,
And the ink of democracy’s creed.
.
But this was once, and times have passed,
And all that remains of the past,
Is but decayed pages amassed,
And fading memories miscast.

This land the founding father’s plowed,
So that liberty might have seeds sown,
Have been harvested by thieves,
And reaped by tarnished hands unfit.

Captured and chained by promises not kept,
Liberty as she now stands,
On the scaffold of shame's burdens,
Stands wearing robes cast by greed's hands.

Though this nation may have come far,
It has become deaf to the common man’s cry.
And that torch once strength to the weak,
Is but a distant light that few dream to see.



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