Independence Day Twenty Sixteen

Only We the People can Make Our Eagle Fly
{I wonder how these 'Thirteen' Stanzas will Fly}

Independence Day Twenty Sixteen
By Arley Steinhour 062716

People, People, Lend me an Ear,
I come to Plead: 'Repent, or Fear,'
The Future, standing at the Door,
History RAPS at what may be in Store:

Our Symbol of Freedom, is hard to be Found,
As if the 'Bald Eagle,' is chained to the Ground,
The Freedom to Soar, is no longer 'Correct,'
Patriotism, now seen, as Mental Defect.

Our Founding Fathers, Envisioned a Plan,
'Elected Officials,' the voice of 'Free Clan,'
Populated, by Souls of 'Many-a-Nation,'
Much like what man was, just after 'Creation.'

Something went wrong in Eden, Too Soon,
Adam Heeded, the Serpent's Lying Croon
'God didn't mean, Fruit, not to be Eaten,
Lest, Mankind Die, (God only meant 'Sweeten,')'

'Eat of this Fruit, and be wise as God,
Never, no never, will He smite you with Rod,'
Adam and Eve, both 'Nibbled,' a Taste,
Saw they were 'Naked,' Eternally 'Debased.'

Six Thousand years, between, Then and Now,
Evicted from 'Eden,' Cursed, as God did 'Avow,'
This Country of ours, He Blessed as 'Safe Harbor,'
For the Down-trodden in Faith, to find their 'Arbor.'

With Revolution, we broke Ties with the King,
Started a Republic, and our Eagle took Wing,
Thirteen Colony/States, with Faith in God as Peak.
We welcomed the Poor, Downtrodden, and Weak,

Oh, this Country, Imperfect, made many Mistakes,
Equality to most, but, there was some tied to Stakes,
Used as our Slaves, or Hidden, on Reservation,
(Perhaps that started, National Condemnation).

Like a Plague, unseen, we changed symptoms, to Hide,
What God started as Perfect, with Blessings Applied,
Through Greed and Power, the 'Cancer Resumed,'
Morphing into 'Apathy,' where Nations, are Consumed.

Eighty-Nine years ago, Government, moved into Town,
More and more, Welfare, ruined 'Fertile Ground,'
Today, we have two types of Citizen to find,
The Working person, and the Welfare Kind.

Blinded, to what made our Nation Great,
We must 'Regain Sanity,' before too Late,
Independence Day, Two Thousand Sixteen,
Perhaps, our LAST, before Jesus, our 'KING.'

Unchain our Eagles; Reteach them to Soar,
God may Repent, and not 'Show us the Door,'
Teachers, and Parents, our Patriotic Core,
Learn from mistakes, Teach, Shore to Shore.

'Church/Bride,' Soon Gone; 'Left-Behind' Wail,
Not Invited to Wedding Feast; {'Tis NOT a Folktale,'}
Seven Years, Prophesied; God's Wrath, Hell on Earth,
To Glean away Tare, for 'Jesus' Kingdom ReBirth.'

AMEN