Lady Liberty's Obituary (A Rondeau)A Poem by Constance-OutspokenAn old poem brought out of the warehouse...Sometimes she dies, sweet liberty... Money, not truth shall set you free. Freedom's frail as a flightless bird, Where cries for help are seldom heard By those with more power than we.
'Neath poverty's glare, her blood spilt, Innocence cries, clutches the hilt-- On the Bureaucrats' blade dies she, Sweet liberty...
A nation built by sturdy hands Cannot be maintained with grandstands, Arrogance on the senate floor! The health of freedom requires more. You've buried her 'neath foreign sands Sweet liberty... © 2010 Constance-OutspokenReviews
|
Stats
197 Views
6 Reviews Added on April 28, 2010 Last Updated on April 28, 2010 AuthorConstance-OutspokenWho wants to know where I am, when who I am is all that matters?, KSAboutMeh. I write crap. I write crap because I've always been alone. more..Writing
|