My country 'tis of thee
a land in
death convulsing
of thee I weep.
Land of great moral strife
debt-choked
lie-hypnotized
for thee I weep.
To relinquish heart's hold
on thee,
Prepare for my new Country
I am so weak.
Thy transformation
I prefer-
hope has yet
to cease.
No comments:
Post a Comment