literature

America Has Forgotten

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martypunker's avatar
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Literature Text

Who died for me?
This country is built on the idea that, "Someone died for me,"
So whose blood was spilled so I could be
Alive and breathing so restlessly?
Whose life was ended so that I could see
By the dawn's early light that I am free?
Free to what? Murder, rape, and steal?
Free to do to my content whatever I feel?
Free to what? Waste my life away?
This type of freedom is not okay.
Who died for me?
Are we talking Abraham Lincoln or Malcom X?
The freedom of living or the freedom of sex
Drugs and rock and roll?
This feels like a freedom that somebody stole!
Stole from whom? The homeless man.
The freedom fighter who made his stand.
Stole from whom? A single father
With a motherless daughter.
Who died for me?
This question shouldn't be so empty,
But apathy has made us blind.
"Who died?" is a greater truth we need to find.
It's time we dug deep inside
And answered the question...
Who died?
So yeah, I made a promise to myself once that I would never do poems again, as I fail massively at them. Anyway, I saw some of this HBO thing about these kids who do poetry and they showed some of the stuff and...yeah. Their poems sort of inspired me. It's past my bed time, so I'm not thinking straight. I'll probably look at this in the morning and ask myself what I was thinking.

Basically, America's history is a lot of "this man died so that you can..." and it seems that the rest of that sentence has been lost and the beginning of the sentence has no meaning anymore.

I dunno. I should go to sleep. Also, I make myself laugh at the whole "spoken word" thing. I dunno what this is.
© 2009 - 2024 martypunker
Comments5
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junoknight's avatar
Powerful, ballzy, and beautiful.
:clap: