At the same time, my pride for my country, it's military, it's selfless first responders, and anyone who gave of themselves on 9/11 lives within me and resonating loud.
At this symbolic time, I felt completely compelled to change up my writing style, lose the wit, lose the sarcasm, lose the quasi brash and honor my America. I do so with a short poem that I just completed. I'm not a prolific writer of poetry to begin with if you are talking technicalities.(or really any other point that makes a jumble of words constitute a poem!) However, the quintessential prose is not about technicalities but about heart the inspires it and molds it into something relatable. The personal heart pour is the only requirement.
America
The enemy knows not the unyielding strength of her heart,
nor the fortitude of her pride,
not the abundance of her army
nor the swift justice
of our America.
The enemy can not besiege us
or take our freedoms, liberties or rights.
The enemy can test our resilience,
but it cannot take our will.
The enemy may wear our fabric thin,
but our America will continue to weave our dream.
Our America was built on our families;
a collective of beliefs and tenets
that forged our way to personal freedoms
and pursuits of happiness.
Whether in agreement or in protest
we all call her home.
Home is where your heart is and my heart
is here.
In America.
God bless ALL her children.
God bless America.
Truth be told: Reflect on the tragedy to remember our tenacity. Our country, our America, is our home. You don't have to love your leader to love your country. Remember the fallen and honor the remaining fighting for us today.
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