the revolution, or should I say,
the American one, was such a
beautiful time because it was
last era were hope persisted in
this world

though they knew times were
not getting better, they knew
that their children, or the child’s
children, or the child’s children’s
offspring, would one day inherit
the beauty of this world

those men in ***** wigs and
uncomfortable cotton could
believe like few others in
history

sure, some might say the french,
in their coup d’état, had as much
or more vigor as their American
peers, but as I recall, their fervor
would turn on them and consume
them like a fire burning out of
control

some too argue that the generations
following the fathers, those trekking
out the western frontiers, those going
off to the civil, the first, and the second
world wars were just as brave and yes
they were

brave

they were brave indeed
but they were not filled
with hope

they did not expect to win

they expected to die
they expected to fail
to lose, to go down in
history as nothing and
that was enough for
them

but not Washington
not Jefferson,
not Madison,
not Adams,
not Hamilton,
not Franklin.

they weren’t in it for history,
they were in it for the future

for the history
of the day after
tomorrow

they
fought because
they knew
they
could
win

until today this optimism
had died

until today, when I, looking into the
future and seeing nothing, still smile,
there was no one who truly understood
that life is not about living

it is about the lives that go on living
after you