PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I wanted to be your brave new land,
a thousand of you arriving, Mayflower comes
and allows you to settle into me at your own pace.
And you could be so all right,
if you'd just learn that here you are free.
The natives here tend not to judge, their burden
lay in their co-existence with everything and nothing.
You could bathe in cleaner streams,
lay foundations on flat grounds and choose
whichever God you wished to love.
You'd make use of all my open spaces and
give me purpose and a name. When asked
how you came upon such bounty,
you'll take pride in discovering me.
You'll build upon and finance change
and refineries will spring like blooms.
When significance is lost on you, I will
simply disrupt you with disaster.
You'll be my only patriot, exclusive and sole queen
of everything I've sold to you.
I'll grow for you to harvest, wrench away,
like it's part of me I've owed you all our shared lives.
And after I am partaken of, ages come,
take away, wither my capacity
for handling all your forced and heavy changes;
all your attempts; your noise.
Eventually I'll explode or you
will dismantle the machine you've built.
And our departure will be swift, abrupt,
but all for the better in the end.