Full to the Ceiling

Full to the ceiling

Parents and children alike

Some get sick

Some get stuck

Harvesting tobacco

They were bought with guns

Full to the ceiling

Parents and children alike

Some are rich

Some are poor

They can't even see

The  great Lady Liberty

Full to the edge

For there is no ceiling

In a tiny raft

Full of those

Parents and children alike

With hopes of life

Without the guns

Full to the ceiling

Or so they say

No more help

We must save ourselves

From the monsters we've become

As we send the guns

But some don't leave

The city no longer

Full to the ceiling

For the morgue now holds

All those lives we took

With the guns we made

To fight the battles

We have no place in

Now we are full

Full to the ceiling

With regret for what we've done

And the monsters we've become

This poem is about: 
My country
Our world

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