Swiftly the wind runs the gauntlet of time,
blows boldly through ages like a shot into space.
Two centuries pass plus decades thrice doth grind,
churning birth of a Nation now fallen from grace.
Bitterly born by battling to be
liberated in a likeness to lead.
Forever enforcing franchise to free
people persecuted, but nary to plead.
Nation born of revolution long ago,
now Super Power, diplomatically demands.
Or use of preemptive strike to surprise the foe
and sacrifice liberties for scare tactic plans.
Ghosts of founding fathers in sorrow must moan
to see what has become of the Nation they made.
Their Declarations fading, to destruction now prone,
Independence lamented for the price that's been paid.
Happy 4th of July - 2006