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The Eagle Cried

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

Mighty symbol of our country,

Against clear-blue skies,

I looked and beheld

Tears in his eyes.

 

“How did this happen?”

Asked I in dismay —

For Old Glory still waves

From the flagstaff this day.

 

I struggled to look through

His lofty point of view,

To see what he saw

From his high realm of blue.

 

Huge tracts of farmland,

Deserted by man —

Farmers of the soil

Being pushed off their land.

 

Pleasure-seeking people,

All searching in vain,

Rich and the famous,

Fleeting moments of fame.

 

Unnoticed people,

Eyes staring in defeat,

Ignored by society,

Sleeping in the street.

 

Pollution and turmoil,

Boundless in array,

People turning blind eyes,

Living for the day.

 

High-rise buildings,

Boredom and despair,

Decaying old cities,

Streets needing repair.

 

A God-fearing people,

Many gone astray.

Old-fashioned virtues

No longer hold sway.

 

Turning away in sorrow,

I shrugged, then sighed,

For it was so plain to see

Why our eagle had cried.

 

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