The Land I Know Independence day
I don’t wear stars or paint my face
don’t need a banner to love this place
It’s in the soil, the open land
the way we fall, the way we stand
It’s early light on quiet streets
a neighbour’s nod, a child’s bare feet
It’s diners steaming up the glass
where stories linger, legends pass
It’s farms that hold the morning dew
the rusted towns that still pull through
It’s every voice, the bold, the shy
beneath this wide and stubborn sky
It’s not just perfect, not all right
we’ve stumbled through our share of night
but still we try, still we believe
in what we hold, in what we grieve
It’s music rising from the ground
in every church, in every sound
the blues, the brass, the dusty strings
the broken truth that freedom brings
It’s never just a marching band
it’s folded flags in quiet hands
It’s knowing peace was never free
and still, we speak, and still, we see
So here’s to us — the flawed, the brave
the hearts that gave, the hands that pave
We rise, we fall, we break, we mend
and love this land until the end
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (3)
Great sentiment, Marie. I like it!
This is a poem for all countries to feel. Good job.
The land is for all but corporate power tries to steal it from us. Excellent words