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Oh, Freedom!

Fossils left over,
By all the founding fathers,
Fossils of freedom,
Like the mighty Magna Carta.
The liberty bell,
Cracked, but still strong,
Ringing peoples voices,
From the past and all along.
Colonies for ants!
Smashed and stepped on,
Breaking away from England,
From this insect bond.
"Don't tread on me"
Is a phrase that's so literal,
It could be criminal.
The robust revolution,
Went around with guns and spirit,
Showing united strength,
Because the red coats
Were now in it.
This marked a new transition,
Four numbers strung together,
Not creating a land of fiction.

©1999-2019 Steve Bujanow

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