Nate Truman

Nate Truman Poems

America, America, so the songs go,
Once so great a country, we now leave lands destitute and sickly,
Our sticky fingers destroying families, and killing the innocent.
We sneak in under our false pretenses of protecting democracy,
...

Back and forth goes the blood stained cloth,
Their silhouettes carefully swaying around the arena
The blade arcing its way around the great and bloody mountains
Of proud flesh that rush by with the majesty of the truly wild.
...

I'm a Midwest boy,
With my golden wheat fields, crystal lakes, and dusky timberlands.
And while I sit upon my circular, rocky shores,
I'm home.
...

Your eyes are dangerous, impish things.
I could fall to those tempestuous irises,
Struck out to sea with merely those thinly veiled seductions to keep me company.
...

I meet another beat up Volvo
as I ride through the forested twists and turns,
blackberry bushes lining acre after acre of bovine pasture.

Slow, steady, fleeting,
...

The Best Poem Of Nate Truman

America The Brave

America, America, so the songs go,
Once so great a country, we now leave lands destitute and sickly,
Our sticky fingers destroying families, and killing the innocent.
We sneak in under our false pretenses of protecting democracy,
And helping those in need,
These tales of heroism whispered to us by politicians with their sinister desires,
And yet those under our wings
Are forever stuck in the cross-hairs of CBS,
As we steal their oily candy from under their noses.

America, America, so the songs go,
A land built on the blood and tears of the stranger,
Of the newcomer,
Of the powerless,
Yet the hate of the foreign still persists,
The abuse of the impoverished lining the pockets of the suit,
Riddling holes in the melting pot
Of our land of the free, home of the brave.

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