Thursday, July 4, 2013

American Independance Day

  Today is America's 237th birthday. I wrote this poem with the idea of it being short and sweet. There are so many poems about America that are 1) long, almost an epic poem and 2)  They always seem to be 'too in your face' about how we're brave, free and the best place to be, which makes us sound arrogant. 
 It reality we're like anyone else in any other country, we love the land we were born in. Home is home no matter where it is. Most countries were colonized and some fought wars to be their own place. I believe that most people have pride in their home land, even if the governing rule isn't something they totally agree with. We don't always agree with the policies and politics, nor how we as Americans are portrayed. We are a melding pot of cultures, ideas, and personalities just like any other country. We are not all what you see on the television, and neither is any other countries people that are on television. 
  So, here is my quick, only revised once, poem. I'm celebrating our day of independence, in the rain,with my husband and everyone else who is so inclined.

On the fourth day, in the seventh month, this once sovereign ruled country,
Declared freedom, from island rule, two hundred thirty seven years ago.
Our home was born from blood and war.
For years our ancestors, with muskets and lead, waged with bitter hate
A war for our freedom evermore.
They prevailed in battle, the underdogs, won the country they loved so much.
They, our fore-fathers, created a fair rule, a renewed country with a new kind of people.
It’s worked thus far, so every year on the day we declared our country ours,
We celebrate with fireworks, parades and patriotic pride, with flags displayed up high.
This is where we’ve all lived, a country, this is our home.
It’s not perfect, no place is, but, to me, there is no place I’d rather be,
Than in the land that is free. I will always love the land I call home,
So I’ve written this poem, to express my love, on the day of my countries birth.

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