America in Crisis

Weathered and withered, yet fighting to stay strong
She preaches to the world, what’s right and what’s wrong!

Far from the days of kings, queens and thrones
She searches for her future through old buried bones!

Having fought for freedom and recovered from her woes
She now makes allies of enemies and friendly foes!

Freedom is seldom rewarded without a fight
She stands strong and fights with all of her might!

Battled and beleaguered, but never thrown
She blinks, but manages to hold her own!

Raising her arms and waving her flag
She never quite understands why spirits sag!

While both sides in a conflict can celebrate a victory
She remains unsure what will be recorded in history!

The war may be over, but the battle may never die
She has to worry about those born to defy!

A call for war is a call to bear arms
She seizes property, uproots homes and burns family farms!

Battled and beleaguered, but never thrown
She blinks, but manages to hold her own!

Struggling to forget the symbols of the past
She makes light of the shadows that she has cast!

Paying homage to old statues, relics and alike
She celebrates them with a vengeful might!

Talking loud and emitting a foul-smelling spew
She ignores the masses and casts her lot with a venomous few.

Once enslaving a race of people
She seeks forgiveness through the church and steeple.

Battled and beleaguered, but never thrown
She blinks, but manages to hold her own!

Vowing never to bestow her enslaved people with civil rights
She finally agrees to stop the protests and ends the fights!

Boasting of her greatest achievement, a democracy
She struts her stuff with oh such hypocrisy!

Consumed with power and the praises of the Almighty
She sometimes seems shallow and oh so flighty!

The words of Ali, Jehovah, and Buddha are powerful and plenty
She chooses the words of a few and ignores the teachings of many.

Battled and beleaguered, but never thrown
She blinks, but manages to hold her own!

Scholars and writers are dutiful in keeping her memory alive
She is hell-bent on making them bountiful in mine eyes!

Long ago, boasting of the land of milk and honey,
She remains subservient to only those with money!

Bursting at the seams are the infirmed and meek
She casts her lot with the rich and remains oblivious to the weak.

Able-bodied men no longer a part of the team
She purges those once held in high esteem!

Battled and beleaguered, but never thrown
She blinks, but manages to hold her own!

Once dependent upon the goodness of strangers
She flirts with evil and makes light of the dangers.

Once embracing the tired, hungry and poor,
She now forcibly shows them the door!

Unobtrusively seeking to close her borders,
She readies herself with painstaking orders!

Battled and beleaguered, but never thrown
She blinks, but manages to hold her own!

Proudly keeping out families and kin
She is demanding only to barter that which is made from within!

Albeit the masses fight to stay afloat
She turns away hundreds in a very small boat!

She finds herself beseeched with self-righteous piety
Unaware that that right belongs only to God Almighty!

Hoping all along that history will remember her kindly
She makes promises to the rich and the famous blindly.

Casting her most precious commodity on the street,
The homeless fights to stay warm, if not only to eat.

Amusing herself by flexing her muscles
She protests too much of those with the hustles!

Parading her fire powers in the Gulf and lands afar
She wreaks havoc while leaving an indelible scar!

Babies are killing babies
And babies are raising babies.

The young are relentless in the struggle to fight for an identity
The old, cast aside are often void of any companionship and dignity.

She calls it pride!
I call it genocide, the killing of a people.

May 6, 2001
© Nadine M. Chatman 2005

America in Crisis

WRITER1011

Joined January 2008

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