Promised Land

Mon, 01/09/2017 - 10:18 -- evansbr

Promised Land


it was midnight

on a windswept


early july,

when i realized

that my entire

nation was

a hand-me-down,

a last-minute


of the word


i was a thief in the

night, and had swept

their worlds

right from underneath

their feet.

i still cannot

pronounce their


and i hope they

come back

to haunt me.

it is your fault

but i will take

accountability –

there is nothing

new under

the sun.

This poem is about: 
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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