Written in February of 2019 —


The eagle sits atop the tree, surveys the world for all he sees.

Watching a land spin out of control, a tear he weeps for the lost souls.

The people they look but do not see, the eagle that sits atop the tree.

Lost in their world of apathy.

Its politics and strife he cries, the people fight while country dies.

His head hung low in silent pain, for what once was, will never gain

A rule, a law, a small request, infringe the rights, they say its best.

It’s lost, no care, just apathy.

When in the days long past is sought, we find those where country’s bought.

He cries with a screech, wake you fools. The land was bought with blood not rules.

We cannot force our will on others, can you not recall the mothers?

He only finds apathy

Remember this when in this time, for in the past it was a crime.

Stealing from others a right they sought, for war and death is all it brought

World wars were fought because of this, forgetful you are, all remiss.

All you have is apathy

Stand and be heard he stretched and cried, in days long past men fought and died.

The rights they loved and cared to keep, the patriots blood spilled still seeps.

Into the land where hate did reign, don’t let their souls be lost in vain.

Many died from apathy.

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