American

0 Comments

Tags:
  • Other

    American

    Natural born American

    Born here

    Grew up here

    And made it their home

    Not a race, but a nationality

    But we’ve encased irrationality

    Bred it, but dread it

    Embraced it, though its laced with

    an imbedded reality

    That a race defines color

    Undeniable physical presence

    But the nation

    Born American

    Has its own deep resonance

    Being American is where we are

    Where we live,

    Where we will fight together side by side

    Where we rally up

    For America-

    die

    Where we work, and often play

    Our home

    everyday

    But instead we fill out forms

    with non-Hispanic

    should we panic

    are you Chinese

    are you native

    mentally segregated

    Hispanic

    Or Caucasian

    Foolishness instigated

    What  are we demonstrating

    For our country

          

    Fellow soldiers

    Fellow man

    Fellow friend

    fellow neighbor

    African American

    Checking boxes next to races

    “optional” like it’s a favor

    Yet we condone this behavior

    Feed it stereotypes and tales

    That should be history but isn’t

    Not in the present but it is

    Yet born American we live

    Believe in red white and blue

    Ask any American its true

    If race, color, creed gives no meaning

    Who’s dreaming up these questions

    When im filling out the questionnaire

    It has its own section

    Put 1 if your white

    Put 3 if your black

    Put 5 if your other, or unsure of the fact

    But the fact is

    And its reactive

    United we should stand

    The only real question should be

                                                                       Are you an American?

    Poem Comments

    (0)

    Please login or register

    You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
    leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

    Login or Register

    The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

    Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

    TheLadyTheWoman’s Poems (3)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    American 0
    What is BLACK 3
    What is White? 3