It Is Ours

"My country 'tis of thee.
Sweet land of liberty.
Of their I sing."

This is not your America.
Nor is it mine.
It is ours.
And the only ones wishing,
They could live in it independently.
Are those most dependent.
On variety and diversity.

This is not your America.
Nor is it mine.
And yet you dare,
To judge my appearance.
With belief you have been given,
An entitlement to dismiss...
My heritage I identify with.
Your perception of perfection.
Was that an image of God,
You see in yourself reflected.
I don't want to burst that bubble,
In your head about to bust from ego.
But America was established,
With God involved to trust.

You see yourself as perfect.
A bag of chips, cheese and dip.
What's perfect about bigotry, hatred and division.
What's perfect about being a hypocrite.
What's perfect about implementing conflict.
And you dare talk to me,
About patriotism and greatness.
From who's couch do you watch this,
On TV, videos or movies you go see.
Explain your version of greatness to me.
Explain to me,
Where you received your greatness.
And kept to have believed.
Was it from others who invoke,
Injustices, inequities, disparities.
And dysfunctions to follow religiously.

This is not your America.
Nor is it mine.
It is ours.
You've created your own enemies.
Done to then deny.

" My country 'tis of thee.
Sweet land of liberty."

Learn the words.
Before you sing to me your blues.
You know...
The blues you sing.
You believe I don't deserve to sing.
If I chose to do that too!
Get real.
Open your eyes.
Your delusions to keep them,
Are in much need to be downsized.
If not erased from your mind completely.

This is not your America.
Nor is it mine.
It is ours.
Diverse with variety.
Everywhere you go.
With it everywhere to find.

by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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