I found God on the back of a dollar bill. He spoke with few words— Some might say only in sign language, but I could hear the shouts. The eternal struggles of a people. Not those who fled across a desert, but those that live in paper temples— Traded in their glass houses for something more-flammable. Whoosh.
Our people washed ashore. Broken…forgotten, but determined. We slaughtered our way to the Golden Arches in a mere two-and-a-half centuries, and while the world laughed we kept quite till the bombs fell.
We stayed silent.
We bided our time. The world came crawling…begging for our help. Before we walked on the moon, we ended a Great War. Now who was laughing? Definitely not the sleeping giant— We were proud. We built great things, we defined generations with our ingenuity, we carved the face of the world in our nuclear image, but we stumbled…we bloated.
And, then the flies came.
They picked at our flesh and laid their eggs in the crevasses of our economy, education, and the very hearts and minds of our people. We call ourselves progressives as hate runs rampant. The peaceful have become weak. There was once a time when the peaceful picked up muskets to fight a world power, and now Guerrillas do the same.
The giant is down— Pinned by sticks and rope. We traveled to lands with little people, but we were never meant to stand in quicksand…we were meant to stand tall. Lady Liberty please light the way, again. Please Lady Liberty…please.