When I think of my country,
I think of a country in dire need of help.
I think of a country that can so easily fall.
When I see my country,
I see poverty and loss among greed and power.
I see so many mistakes that have been made.
When I smell my country,
I smell pollution and poison in the air.
I smell sweat of the hard-workers and blood of the fallen.
When I taste my country,
I taste cheap mac n' cheese from the grocery store.
I taste tears, salty and bitter.
When I hear my country,
I hear gunshots and explosions.
I hear screaming and crying coming from everybody I know and love.
When I touch my country,
I touch money, which so many people worship.
I touch a government that can so easily collapse.
When I feel my country,
I feel sadness and depression and hopelessness.
I feel hatred.
All of this can be summed up in one word.
That word is my country.
That word is 'America'
Kylee Bartz
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-country-14/
