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These are very troubled times
riots on the street of Paris
coming from an entitled youth
socialism is the demon
is it creeping here in America?

Bombs explode in Baghdad
war is hell and our troops die
freedom is the reason why.

Capitalism is frowned on by many
it's a evil thing to want to make
ones own way in this world.

Independence is hard fought for
freedom to go in and out our door
work from dusk till dawn if need be

No people wish totally controlled
freedom means many things
and responsibility is one of them
to our families, to our nation,
for our actions.

There ain't no place for whiners
they will never change
always wanting more and more
that someone else has dug from the ground.

We are a mighty nation
compassion is our name
we opened up the doors
for all to seek the same
not on the back on another
but by their own two hands

work is good therapy
helps one sleep at night
holding on to all our dreams
keeps the going right.

bentfeather

Just some rambling of mine today.

First draft of a serious poem, I think:

Meditation on the Fourth Sorrowful Mystery: Jesus Carries His Cross

Each step, each breath, each beat of your heart - pain.
The weight of the cross so heavy,
each step a small miracle of your perseverance,
the determination to pay that price,
no matter how shaky the legs,
how short the breath,
how much it cost to make each step.

Glorified.
This is how the Father does it,
the way he did not ask Abraham to take,
no sacrifice of the firstborn for his chosen people,
sacrificed by blood and fire.
No.
But through you, his only-begotten,
laboring there beneath the crossbeam,
Your hair and face streaked with blood beneath the thorny crown,
face beneath the smears ashen with pain,
and the gathering doom in your chest,
already making you hungry for breath,
Scapegoat,
bearing the sins of the world,
each bruise, each welt merely a token of what they deserve.
Glorified
as you walk,
the smell of blood and fear and sweat and death and pain
swirling around you,
our deaths, our pains, our griefs
on your one set of shoulders,
each movement crying out its pain,
only a foretaste of the pains ahead,
until, fulfilled,
you slip away,
glorified indeed by the hands of your loving Father,
and in that new dawning,
hope born in the birthpangs we can only imagine,
you will stand glorified,
our Lord
world without end,
amen.