America
Oh America, she sings a bitter song.
It weaves through streets and bounces off walls,
Reminding all of us that we don't belong.
Her cruel melody is meant for all.
Her days are always bustling,
Her nights even more.
Filled with people scurrying and hustling
Into adulthood and out the door.
I fall into step
With the luxurious skies of blue and walls of maroon.
And with the right amount of pep
I hum her sweet tune.
By the end of her song, with her very last note,
She gives her children one last glimmer of hope.
It weaves through streets and bounces off walls,
Reminding all of us that we don't belong.
Her cruel melody is meant for all.
Her days are always bustling,
Her nights even more.
Filled with people scurrying and hustling
Into adulthood and out the door.
I fall into step
With the luxurious skies of blue and walls of maroon.
And with the right amount of pep
I hum her sweet tune.
By the end of her song, with her very last note,
She gives her children one last glimmer of hope.
♠ ♠ ♠
Just a sonnet we were supposed to write about America in my English class. I was really proud of my poem, mostly because i absolutely suck at writing them, especially those that rhyme. Anyway, enjoy!