Where is my America?
The one I grew up knowing.
The land where Freedom rang,
And dreams were overflowing.

Where people loved each other,
And cared for their fellow man.
When those who made a difference, 
Stood tall to make their stand.


When we fought to keep our rights,
Spilling blood, to keep us free.
Our voices one, in unison,
From sea, to shining sea.


When children played, safe outside,
Came home when it got dark.
And evil wasn't lurking the shadows,
Of every now, drug-infested park.


Where people worked their forty,
To proudly make their pay.
Not looking for constant handouts,
Of everything given away.


When pride was visibly seen,
On every Fourth of July.
'Cause we knew what fireworks stood for,
Exploding in the summer sky.


When morals still existed,
And God was allowed in our schools.
Our Country was run by true heroes,
Not ethically-bereft fools. 

When praying wasn't frowned upon,
Because you may insult the beliefs of another.
And people still respected elders-
Honored their father, and their mother.


When babies weren't disposable-
Pregnancy was reason to rejoice.
And innocence wasn't so easily aborted,
Life was a gift, not merely a 'choice'.


Where we didn't coddle our enemies,
So as not to demean, or offend.
But we fought for maintaining FREEDOM,
Whatever the cost...or end.


When planes weren't flown into buildings,
Or makeshift bombs, placed on our streets.
We didn't know the word 'surrender',
We didn't know the word, 'defeat'.


We stood proud, we sang aloud,
We marched in Memorial Day Parades.
We remembered our fallen heroes,
Not all these political charades!


Vulgarities and immoralities,
Were far and few between.
Now its on, almost every channel,
And on every movie screen!


Our children didn't kill each other,
On the playgrounds, or in our schools.
We lived by a set of ethics.
And lived by, the Golden Rules.


We played games of innocence,
Not bloody games, of hate and war.
Kids pretended and used imagination-
They hardly do that anymore.


We didn't fear our rights, being taken away,
By our very own Government at hand.
We didn't fear being overrun,
At our own borders, of our own land.


When AMERICANS were a first priority,
And 'political-correctness' wasn't a term.
When our politicians worked FOR us.
And our beliefs, we did proudly affirm.


So WHERE is my America?
The one I've known for all my years.
Its hard to see her anymore,
Though the haze of all my tears.

May 2013

Author's Notes/Comments: 

*Just wrote this-the title has been in my head for weeks and knew the poem would come when it was ready.

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a.griffiths57's picture

    Very cleverly written



Very cleverly written poem, loved your choice of words. I am not American but can see similarities here in the UK Europe. I do hope you re- find your America and it's dreams.




nightlight1220's picture

Very in your face and up

Very in your face and up front expressing the 'dream'. It is a dream that we can choose to accept is alive, or not. Quickly becoming a near-fantasy.


It has forever been referred to as 'the American Dream', but why so many of us have chosen to view it as a reality is well...maybe a matter of many different things about how we face reality. Different and unique to each of us.

...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "