Is It Poetry
I can not drive it home
you are not there to receive me.
The N.S.A.- C. I A.- drones over head
for years they have labored.
You will not let me have my own rights
why should I care about yours.
Whistle blower or snitch he tried to warn you.
Much more does he have to give over.
Patriotic or the narrow minded traitor.
He without the help of you, your sources gathered.
Bring him back if for no other reason.
The trojan horse has even more value to them.
One way streets travel two ways to some
it in time will be given.
Such are the eye's and the ears of a prophet
when all see the road less traveled.
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Comments about this poem (Edward Snowden by Is It Poetry )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- A Homage To The Freedom Fighters Of India, Raja Basu
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Tonight I can write the saddest lines, Pablo Neruda
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- All the World's a Stage, William Shakespeare
- A Poison Tree, William Blake
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