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Bekah Nov 8
Built off the backs
Of migrant slaves
The American Dream
Is what they claim
A place where women
No longer choose
Instead it’s men
In flashy suits
The rich get richer
While neighbors starve
Injustice cuts deep
Leaving us marred
Though a dream,
A nightmare too
America The Great
Red, white, and blue
*Please be kind with your words. Our nation is hurting right now and it is something we all have to heal from in our own way. Please don’t belittle me for trying to sort my own feelings. Thank you.*
Thorn Sep 15
I pledge allegiance to the flag
of the United States of America
and to the Republic for which it stands,
one nation, under God, indivisible,
with Liberty and Justice for all.

Justice for all our black neighbours
who have the honour of being murdered
should they make the mistake of looking
at a police officer the wrong way;
officers meant to unhold the meaning of justice.

Justice for the gays who’ve spent decades fighting
for their right to publicly exist,
even accepting torture as punishment
for the sake of the greater good;
only for those rights to be put back in a box.

Justice for the women bleeding in alleyways
at the hand of a man who knows
that even if he’s caught,
he’ll still get away with it.
He just has to blame it on her skirt.

Justice for the brothers and sisters
dying at the hands of their cruel parents
and a crueler system that would care more
if only they still existed in the womb.
A life being lived is a life not important, I suppose.

Justice for the mentally impaired
who were perceived as burdens
and God’s punishment for mankind to bear;
who are still fighting for their right
to work, own, and love as others do.

Justice for the felons who got the label
in a state of teenage recklessness,
who have not the right to vote
or have themselves a good career,
but get to watch another run for president.

Justice for the Natives who often go missing
and reappear mysteriously deceased,
but are rarely ever looked for
or never given any protections.
Who are still fighting for their right to keep their land.

Justice for the children
who have to practice lockdowns
in case their school is the next one attacked.
The fear of not going home heavy on their hearts;
thoughts and prayers the only thing sent if they die.

Justice for the non-Christians whose lives are threatened
and temples are frequently attacked
because they don’t fit under the allegiance,
for the don’t follow the ‘right’ God
or practice the ‘right’ way.

Justice for all of the lonely Americans
who have to watch their liberties
be put on the stand and questioned again.
The ones fighting one more time for the right to live.
To love. To be safe. To be a person.

Justice for the ones watching
The arrogant applaud their loss of freedoms
for the sake of their own personal gain.
Justice for the ones listening to their loved ones
tell them that it doesn’t matter.
I guess we just don’t matter.

To Liberty and Justice for all.
Valentine Aug 23
Elvis woke me in the afternoon
He told me
Church was over
That I missed the Sunday service
Yet I still heard the choir
Just down the corridor

I prayed on the steps of Graceland
To a statue of a lion
Cascading in the light
Spilling off stained glass
He told me
Winner takes all
And I gambled my heart
Right out of my chest

Sliding out of my shoes
I fell down the stairs
And landed in a hotel bed
Picket fence lining my frame
The devil told me
My alarm was going off
But I like to think it's all apart of
My American dream
Me Hgrub Nov 2023
man we are just so comfortable
in these cozy bubbles

convinced we cannot change a thing but our own environment

bothered and put off by the suffering of others
asking “how can you even watch that?”

unwilling to sit with those feelings of helplessness and rage
unable to tolerate seeing the things we’ve never seen
the desperation we never will experience
and the situations others didn’t get to choose
as if we aren’t living on the same exact earth

and maybe that’s exactly what keeps us here
drinking our frappes
stressed about a deadline
complaining about our french fries
American dreaming
FREE PALESTINE
Leone Lamp Apr 2021
Boredom bored some,
but for the rest of us it became a lifestyle.

The rest of us,
who spend so much money and time,
on objects and gizmos...
Just to while away our lives.

And, on comfort!
If we're going to do nothing,
we've at least got to be comfortable
while we do it.

We've gotta work though,
gotta hustle.
The trick is finding that tipping point...
The Grand American Treasure:
To find the least amount of labor,
for the greatest amount of leisure!

So let's climb that ladder
Make money! Get paid!
So we can quickly and painlessly,
whittle away our days.
Tapping into my inner gonzo and trying to stab a pin into the heart of the "American dream".
~4/15/2021
B Nov 2019
Sometimes dreams come waking
by the American shore.
Over and over,
escorting wandering souls, more and more.
Over deep ocean, golden rays;
blinding eyes, singing praise.
America the beautiful and America the free.
How free is possibility,
In a nation of changing, pride, urgency?
How much can you bear internally
watching your brothers and sisters wither in desperation.
Oh, beautiful and free and desperate nation.
Nation of red, white, and blue
red blood,
white knuckle,
blue bruised back.
We struggle together, yet unity we lack.
Everyone seems to be rushing up and pushing down
when we are all surely hell-bound
destined far beyond the ground.

We fear failure, we fear love
we fear whoever is watching above.
Because, regardless of who created and thought,
“my artistry will change the world”
was surely not
trying to leave it in ruins.
Simply; we, America, move too fast
we justify the present, suppress the past.
Ignore all the wrongs we've rendered within our own borders,
to our own neighbors.
What can you do wrong, when you have dominion?
And when you are below, what importance is there in your opinion?
There is no morality in a man who has his eyes on the rise,
a man who has never taken labor
in his stride.
America was built on sweat and vigor
though, now, whose finger is on the trigger?
The new America, polished and improved
has the gun cocked in every angle
advertising the glorified dream, the success that you can strangle.
The time that can be abused; yearning for wealth, working to the grave.
Servant to the passing days, when,
wasn't it liberation we once craved?

We're building an empire, disguised as democracy,
where we ****** the spirit of those we promised were equal.
It reeks of hypocrisy.
We're building an empire,
but even once-great Rome fell down in shambles,
and we aim far, far higher.
Higher buildings, higher expectations, higher need to achieve
to beat and beat down on those that only breathe.
We're building up walls to elude the sun, dead,
when you live in darkness, what, honestly, becomes right in your head?
What light shines upon a nation, still unashamed
of prerogative and seldom rights to be obtained
by virtue and strive for those who believed in the American scheme?

Sometimes dreams come crashing
at the American shore
littered its sands
all the years from America forever and America before.
the only poem i've ever read aloud for a school project
Wanderer Feb 2019
Politics jut aren't my thing
I don't care who you vote for
I won't judge you based on your political party

but I do want to say

That is hurts me to see
so many Americans be so callous and rude
to others based on their religion or race
to watch others suffer
in countries where their leaders
are committing genocide
and when their last hope is
to run away from their home, family
everything that they've ever known
in hopes of finding safety
in hopes that they may be able to survive without fear
but then they are met with cruelty at our borders
hate in our country

What does America stand for
if not freedom and hope?
Is the American dream dead?
Bernice Helena Dec 2018
They come in gold and silver,
Twinkling lights, gem-filled eyes
Of diamonds and critines,
Dotting this night scene with life.

I don't know where they'll go,
But with each pair passing,
Time went so, so slow.

Stones against my bloodied feet,
Cutting at these pulsating streams.
Tarmac, tar black
Laced with that sacred red.

I don't know how much further I can go,
The shards only dig deeper,
The lights are losing their glow.

They left with stains of crimson,
Apathetic silhouettes slinking in the night,
In a trail of shattered garnets,
Past the corpse of death's bride.
Some are left behind.
Lynnia Oct 2018
It was our fathers’ independence
Not quite passed down to their descendants
These “We The People” days were through
Long before our world came to
And now we breathe and bleed our rights
Always ready for a fight
People screaming through the streets
Bullets from a single tweet
The American Dream so lovingly kept
Drowned in Liberty’s tears as she softly wept
Left and Right at constant war
Raging, always craving more
We tear at all the different ones;
Turn our faces from the Son
If this is what it means to be free,
say goodbye to Liberty.
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