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For years, they stole and robbed from our pockets.
For years, they murdered what faith we had,
Killed what hope we gained for ourselves.
Poverty loomed over us like death, the
Loss of materialistic payment. Currency controls;
We have none.

Beginning with a silly addition to parchment and paper.
A "stamp act," if you will. Oh, the rarity of a few extra
Coins to spend on a cake for the mistress!
Rebellion and violence against the act increased,
The Sons, the ones of Liberty left
Blood splattered on the ground we walk on.
Fear installed in the hearts of agents,
Collecting and shivering as coins ring in their satchels.
Soon, though, they left. Resigned and replaced themselves with
Another thief.
The Townshend- adding cents more to imported,
Provided, goods. The people starved for things
They need and can not afford.
Naive. They had materials. They had the skill,
But no need to use what they contained in their minds
And their bodies.
Begin the new world! Spin your own yarn and twine!
Build your own shoes! You don't need the goods
From old English factories and makers.

The disagreements and retaliation, the lack in
Morality in the brainwashed heads of soldiers.
A bothered redcoat drew his gun, leaving holes,
Horrible voids.
The dive from cliff to cliff, swing from tree to tree,
The ****** of blood and
The determination to be freed from the grasp of
A controlling monarchy.
The greed they exhibit and the cruelty.
Revenge for taking what is ours?
Sweet tea, English tea,
Soaked in the harbor. The tax will be no more!

The need for peace, rejected by one
Who wanted control and a steady reign.
The isolation, suffocation of the new land like an
Abused child.

It was only a matter of time before the child ran away.

— The End —