When I was a boy I loved my country.
My eyes widened at its greatness.
I felt like the whole world was for me.
I thought the Marines were the coolest people ever.
(They're still pretty cool)
I thought our flag looked beautiful, flapping in the wind.
I believed god truly blessed America.
I also believed when it rained,
It meant god was crying.
It gave me so much joy because then
I knew he care.
That he was watch everything happen, but as I've grown more cynical and my faith has faded.
My love of rain simplified to the rhythm of the drops and the smell of better days.
On November 9 2016.
It rained.
The six year old in me knew.
The Lil Patriot, already terminally ill, flat lined.
Still questioning if his country was ever really his.
YOU ARE READING
A Boy And His Box
PoetryHey! This is my first time doing something like this so sorry if I suck. This is going to be a book mostly filled with poems I write. I'm going to do other things with later ,so of you don't like poetry stick around for some adventures. This book is...
