R.I.P. America

Rest in Peace America

You’ve composed your own dirge

And sewn your own shroud

You’ve managed to alienate quite a large crowd

Only for etiquette’s sake

Your grasping hand I take

Your clawed hand veined and gnarled with greed

Spotted with age

And emissions fouled air

That you struggle to breathe

R.I.P. America

My eyes are gritty with your factory ash

Void of tears for your imminent demise

I wonder if your dying eyes are too glassy

To see the cliff crumble before you

Under the weight of the revolutions you’ve fed

I wonder at the signs that you’ve never read

Even as you claim victory

From your gold laden death bed

R.I.P America

Does your gold give you comfort

When the vultures abound

You can’t take it with you

And no loved ones were found

To shower you with kisses

And sing your great deeds

Only I watch over you

As clarity strikes

In your final moments