Analysis of America is Dead and So Am I



America is dead and so am I.
There’s no true gain, so why even try?
I attended their deceitful schools,
I obeyed their golden rule,
I listened to their great lie.

I rowed their boat,
 I sang their songs,
I swore their great oath,
and still didn’t belong.
I labored real hard,
roaming afar,
gazed I toward a sunny tomorrow,
dearly wishing upon a falling midnight star.

But they’ve sold us all out,
they’ve purloined our hard won clout,
they’ve tarnished our precious name,
and now nothing ‘s the same.

They slander our founders,
our wise elders who never floundered.
They insult our constitution
as they chastise Lady liberty’s great revolution.

I roamed afar
in search of my golden yard,
moving from town to town,
wherever gainful possibilities might still be found.

Yet no true opportunity exists,
I shall insist.
It's not worth the people’s dime,
when more than ninety percent is only part-time.

Finally here in camp I settled down
where today my frozen corpse was found.
Way up on this windy mountain top
was as high as I e’er got.

You gaze with utter astonishment upon me
in great sincerity,
trying with all your might
to figure out this unsettling sight.

See my waning bed-fire
in this late morning hour?
Read carefully my final note
you’ve taken from my military hiking coat.

Gaze deeply into my frozen pallid face,
laying upward from the nap bag in such a mysterious place.
Behold my glazed and faded crystal cerulean eyes
that my sweet earth now so despises!

Why could I not
choose God Almighty’s glorious mountain top?
Why could I not opt to be like the father,
Moses,
rambling afar in search of a Promised Land
filled with delicious roses?

Why should I follow your wicked drummer,
as he leads you and your dimwitted ignorant mutant masses
into dreary bondage asunder?
Why must we choose to follow you through Hades passage,
when we know it is our hearts,
 minds,
and precious resources you seek to plunder?
It wasn’t us who told you to take out that massive thirty trillion dollar loan.
We refuse to absorb this harvest of chaos,
terror,
and poverty you have sown.
We didn’t give you permission to send our production base off,
so you can simply ready yourselves to pay your own horrible costs!

I honestly don’t know how to craft a perfect end,
but damn globalism,
socialism,
and the UN!
Sick Satan is your king,
and his tainted gospel is your thing,
and while I know him and his demons are truly to blame,
damn all of you filthy pigs into hell just the same!


Scheme AAXXA BXXXCDXD EEFF XXGG DCHI XXJJ HIKL MMNN OOBB PPXQ LKOXXQ OXOXXXORXORXX XFXGSSFF
Poetic Form
Metre 0100110111 111111101 101010101 1011101 1101111 1111 1111 11111 01101 11011 1001 110101001 10100101011 111111 10110111 11010101 0110101 1101010 1011011010 10110010 11011011010 1101 0111101 101111 0101001001111 111010001 1101 1110101 111100111011 1001011101 101110111 111110101 1111111 111100100011 010100 101111 1101101001 1110110 0111010 11001101 11011100101 11001110101 1010101101001001 01110101011 111111010 1111 111100101 11111111010 10 10010110101 1101010 1111011010 11110111001010 011010010 1111110111010 11111101 1 01010011110 1111111111101010101 101101110110 10 0100111 1111010111001011 11110100111111001 1100111110011 111 100 001 110111 011010111 01111011011011 1111101011101
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 2,520
Words 514
Sentences 27
Stanzas 13
Stanza Lengths 5, 8, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 6, 13, 8
Lines Amount 72
Letters per line (avg) 27
Words per line (avg) 6
Letters per stanza (avg) 150
Words per stanza (avg) 34

About this poem

This poem is one written from a dream.

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Written on January 28, 2024

Submitted by srhenterprises0520 on January 28, 2024

2:34 min read
2

H.L. Dowless

The author is an educational instructor internationally and stateside. He has been a writer for over thirty years. His publishing credits for 2019 alone include two volumes on American History by Algora Publishing, Leaves Of Ink, Short Story Lovers, Frontier Tales, CC&D Magazine, The Scarlet Leaf Publishing Company, and Juste Milieu Lit & Art Zine. more…

All H.L. Dowless poems | H.L. Dowless Books

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