"We the (American) People"

Poem by: Alex Sharpe


Submitted: October 28, 2013

A A A | A A A


Submitted: October 28, 2013




"We the (American) People" -- A Poem by Alex Sharpe

I am the voice that You hear in the Wind.

I am this Brand new everyday Trend.

I am the person Inside that has gone Mad.

Much like that bag of Food that has Gone Bad.

I am the feeling that makes You feel Sad.

You are the Voice that Leads you to Bad.

You are the Lecture that you got from Your Dad.

You are the One that says you Know All.

Much like that time when you Could not Fall.

You are the Person that I would Not Call.

We are the People who Worship our Freedom.

We are the People who would rather not Be Them.

Much like our Forefathers who did Much Bleeding.

We are the Ones who always Fall Last.

Ever since the American Flag Stood at Full Mast.



A country of Justice

A country for All

A people that Believe

A government that Can’t fall.

What is it we American’s cherish most of All

Our freedoms and justice, or our abilities and prejudice

When we are hurt, who do we fall to

When other’s are hurt, who do they fall to

We are a people who can come home from work and lay out in the sun

With people that don’t even care where they’re from

Because they know that they are American, and that is all they need to know

Unlike other countries of the world, who think we’re their foe

For reasons so silly, and what they mean really

We fight wars against others, for reasons such as this

It is not all fun and games in America

Work is hard to find, and families tend to unwind

Unlucky families live on the streets with no shoes on their feet

When it comes to work, some American’s are lazy

Innocent people simply go crazy

When other countries fall to nature or terrorism

We are the ones who treat them with care

Our government is so strong

War is dared to be fought

Countries who had better just think not

We are the American people

A people of hope, justice, and liberty for long



For long we sailed the open seas.

To find a land still full of trees.

With fields of corn and growing peas.

With mystical moutains and harvesting bees.

A country of our own, once a child, now fully grown

Divorced thy father, now left alone

A country so great

Built from bits and pieces much

Tore by war and envy such

A country so great

Torn apart by war and fire

Burned to the ground with complete desire

Battles fought, loved ones lost

All through the year and the winter’s frost

Standing tall and yelling to all

We will become a country that cannot fall

A country so great



America, land of the free

That's what it's always been to me

But you can check your history book and you will see

For some reason it was just not meant to be

The Native Indians loved this land

Could of had duggouts made out of sand

But from many regions they were simply banned

They suffered through the Trail of tears

Wrestled with the pioneers for years and years

The land they loved grew full of fears

But now it's all behind us and we don't care

So now it's the fact we can't bare

The troubles set behind us left in the sand

Become my friend and just take my hand

© Copyright 2016 Alex Sharpe. All rights reserved.

Status: Finished

Genre: Poetry


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