American Dream, You Are Not What You Seem (Final Version)

The final, submitted version of my American Literature poem. Very different.

American Dream,

You Are Not What You Seem.

  Bang,

   Bang,

           Bang,

Their hammers rang.

Their ship docked on Plymouth Rock,

The Puritans then hopped off.

No longer tied to the English ways,

They would begin better days.

They called themselves Americans,

No longer wanting to be Englishmen.

They wore their belts upon their hats,

Worked and worked, and never sat.

They came here to start anew,

They said they lived only for God,

But strived for a righteousness that was only in God.

Their dream was to stay righteous,

And pious.

And industrial too.

They would frown on any idleness,

Like the playing we do.

The Puritans were like parents, you see,

To this country known as America.

Ant the first son they birthed,

In this line of works,

Was the rebellious,

Intelligent,

Author of Words.

F. Scott Fitzgerald was the tormented teen,

In love with a girl with a habit of greed,

He worked until he was worthy of she.

Published a novel,

Struck it rich,

And then she was finally ready to be hitched.

But after a while of parties and glamour,

Fitzgerald started to wonder.

Is this American Dream really what it seems?

My dear Zelda says she loves me,

But I think its only for my money...

And so brought out the legendary tale,

Of a man who bootlegged to make his wealth.

Jay Gatsby portrayed Scott's foolish days,

Zelda was Daisy in turn.

Like her name,

Daisy was a weed,

Clinging to things,

And sucking the life out of them.

Sweet in her looks,

Deathly in her actions,

Daisy was a confusing attraction.

Nick portrayed Scott's awakened days,

Seeing the drama about him.

At last he said,

"Oh forget this!"

And to his simple life he went.

The dream was flawed, by the intrigue of it all,

The greed and the money,

Were no longer funny,

And the scandals grew quite tired.

Their American Dream, had a big blot,

And Fitzgerald hid it not.

He gave a hint to those later to come,

Money is worth nothing,

When you've no morals to speak of.

Honey and mappiness,

Go together as much as money and happiness.

That dream was quite a wretched thing,

A night terror with angel wings.

Pious and righteous,

Are oxymora.

Money is happiness,

Was said by morons.

I don't think you could get more wrong.

My dream is not a house by the sea,

Or a fancy dress to wear at parties,

Not even the green appeals to me.

I want to find what happy is,

Although I know, I know it is.

A mindset you must put on yourself,

It belongs to you and no one else.

I wish to have a man to myself,

A house of kids,

And nothing else.

I won't judge a man for his philosophy,

But remember those I have for me.

And stand up for what's honorable,

Even if forsaken and by myself.

My dream is to be,

The best me.

And that is a lifelong vagary.

Happiness is not found in gems from the ground,

Or green paper we pass around,

Its within oneself,

And nothing else.

The American Dream,

Is not what it seems.

It's what you make it be.

Author's Note

I turned this in on 12/14, at about 9:00 PM. And it was graded 12/14 at about 9:14 PM.

I aced it, 100/100. And my teacher left this note...

"You are so brlliant you just blow me away! I love this poem and I love everything about you! I hope I work for you one day!"

My teacher is awesome.

Reviews

[Summer D.]

You, my friend are awesome.
Besides my earlier comments this poem went together beautifully.
Not much too add...
Great job on the ace. :)
Here's another for the road.

* 100 *

[Desiree S.]

Teralyn, I really felt the emotion you put into this piece of work. It was just amazing!

Keep writing! :)

[Kyle P.]

Teralyn, is your teacher Ms. Monroe or Mrs. Puffer? Great job on acing it! I know that it was hard as I did the same assignment... but I chose to do a powerpoint instead, so it would be a little hard to put up here. But I aced it also so... yeah.

Great job!

-Kedren/Kimmy/Katy