vote

My father was proud of American dream
He would tell me I lived in the land of the free
And that hope would abound for all boys and girls
In a land that upheld De-mocracy

May father was proud, and served in the Marines
I read every letter from the Gulf that he wrote
About war, about pain, about love, about life
About Liberty and the power of the vote

"You see son" he wrote to me time and again
"America once fought a great bloody war...
Over taxes we paid that bought us no voice
And that was what the battle was for

Its important my son that you use this great gift
That was bought by red blood in horrific amounts
They earned it for you, so use it with pride
And always remember that every vote counts!"

So now I am 20, in college, in love
And I just cast my vote, used my voice given me
By the founders and fighters that built this great land
That was afterward christened De-mocracy

Father, I miss you, you died for your dreams
But its better you died before this sorry day
Your dream has been crushed, my voice has been stilled
Because a woman named Harris threw my vote away

I now lean on your grave and stare up at our flag
I think of this place, this land of the free
And ponder the way that it muffled my voice
And I wonder about its legitimacy

So in another four years, when the vote comes again
Should I speak, should I not? Do the former or latter?

Father, why should I?
My vote doesn't matter.

This poem is dedicated to every American... Every Democrat, Republican, and Third Party member who had their voice muffled. May the wrongs be righted and may Democracy never die.

~Arlanthe, PTW November 16, 2000