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And… The farms are becoming housing Developments. Farewell to the Amber waves of grain. How long shall liberty still rain? Is the well spring of opportunity going to become dry? Will it leave us poor wretches to die? Dear Columbia I beg of thee Do not turn your glorious face from me! This is what the old heads say. “You must learn you make your way!” Broken memories of D-day or the Mai Kong haunting like spectres or a beautiful song. Staccato maxims, like bullets, sing a ****** truth as they pierce the red-hot idealism of youth. So do not forsake me, dear Columbia. I, your broken son, stand before you blinded by the future you promised. This night is illuminated by those burning Amber waves. And… the farms are becoming housing Developments.
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Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC
Dear Columbia
And… The farms are becoming housing Developments. Farewell to the Amber waves of grain. How long shall liberty still rain? Is the well spring of opportunity going to become dry? Will it leave us poor wretches to die? Dear Columbia I beg of thee Do not turn your glorious face from me! This is what the old heads say. “You must learn you make your way!” Broken memories of D-day or the Mai Kong haunting like spectres or a beautiful song. Staccato maxims, like bullets, sing a ****** truth as they pierce the red-hot idealism of youth. So do not forsake me, dear Columbia. I, your broken son, stand before you blinded by the future you promised. This night is illuminated by those burning Amber waves. And… the farms are becoming housing Developments.
#america#youth#history#idealism#farms
Written by
colby-scott
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC
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