America 2

poem from college

America giving me a call

Why the hell do you do the things that you do

America giving me a yell

Crushing down the little voices that tell the truth

America why are you such a b***h

Messing up the world that i love

Making wars and starving your people

America you’re a b***h

So stop calling me on the phone

To try and get me back

Under your broken wings

For i have cut stirrings that have held me down

So that i could try out my wings

To forget what you have done

America i unplugged my phone

To let you know

That i don’t care any more

To listen to you

To try and hold me down

From opening the door of truth

So call someone else to listen to your crap

Because i closed my ears to you

Till you can tell me the truth. 

Reviews

[L Williams]

You've expressed your anger at the status quo well in this poem. I've offered some suggestions below for your consideration if you wish to revise.

Capitalize "I"

(anymore)

Did you mean strings instead of stirrings?