They called it the free world,

Where people came from around the globe,

Where people came seeking freedom,

And now walk in fear.


What land of opportunity?

Where people come seeking a new start, a new life,

And are treated as outsiders

By those whose ancestors followed the same path.


It's not the country's fault

It's only the immigrants' fault

For arriving now,

Just a century too late.


And there's this perfect image

That in this place there are no faults,

Like crystal clear waterfalls,

Spotless, no doubt.


Surely here there could be no poverty,

No debt, no fear to be you,

Surely safety is guaranteed

Regardless of religion, skin, or beliefs.


Here corruption can't exist,

And the education system is perfect,

Everyone is happy -

We can forget about gun violence.


"The Promise Land," as it's called,

Now breaking all its promises.

The perfect world, as we praise it,

A bad leader to its followers.


Long since fallen from its glory,

America has a lot of problems.

This country needs to get its act together

If it is to salvage the respect it's earned.

This poem is about: 
My country


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