I sit at my lonely,

Familiar desk,

Caught up in the whirlwind,

That whisks me along

With it,

Willingly at best.

As no man is an island,

Goodness and patriotism,

Are glue,

Irregardless of race, or ism,

This assimilation has a,

Unique hue view.

It may be my Winter,

But I’ve planted my feet,

thanks to Yogi,

It ain’t over till,

It’s over,

I will not retreat.

Worried in darkness,

Ecstatic in the Light,

I am overjoyed,

That WE won,

Barr none,

With brilliant stinging fight.

A plan comes together,

And I am an intricate part.

Every drop of blood shed,

Deserves a Country-altar,

To support the weight,


Who fought so fiercely,

Their neck’s at stake,

Now it’s my turn,

To take,

Fearless participation,

In the glory,

Of a Nation,

From within, scorned,


Let Freedom ring from,

Tower and Steeple,