All this time I've been told that America is a lady
Sweet lady libertine, letter her lovers fly free across the teal ocean shores.
But now I realize that America is a man.
A man who looks me in the eye and expects me to look away before he does.
So sure of himself he belittles my thoughts, my feelings, my shaping and planning for our life
He told me he was there for me, but I keep feeling him pressing against me when I'm too tired to
handle it, so he forces his mantra on me.
I hear him traveling off to different buildings in the night leaving me awake while I pretend he
didn't wake me up.
America why aren't you here with me?
I waited so long to have you next to me, but you never changed like you told me.
I see him beating, breaking, and brooding about, but I believe I can change him.
I can change him or I can't bear it any longer.
He was sweet with me, and I know he's there. This pretty young man, full of hope and wonder.
Oh how age has made you bitter. So what you weren't all you hoped to be?
What did you expect?
You conquered the world, did you want heaven too?
Well I stood next to you and held your hand and asked you, i asked you more than once to just be
kind to the children in Venezuela while you did it. But then again you just looked at me in the
eyes, and I wanted to look at your eyes, those eyes I fell in love with, but I crippled and looked
Did you ever care for me America?
Or have I just been loving a man I never could change?
Did you mean anything you said to me?
Were you ever really mine?