In 1776

   In 1776, I would have been a Patriot. In 1776, I would might have even been a forefather, but who really knows, either way it’s foolish to think such stupid thoughts. In 1776, I would be a man, rather than a number or letters that do not go in lines. Not consonants or vowels, more like slurs and sounds, and they do not even rhyme. In 1776, I would have fought and probably died, lost my life with my brother or else. In 1776, my offenses would hold no crime, and my words might be heard. In modern day I’m like hither, niether here nor there. I can scatter but I’m merely seeds in a crop,and the crop is the crowd, so it is hard to survive, but my roots are deeper than all’s else as though I was produced by the deepest of all roots. In 1776, I might have been hung for it seems I am attracted to witches, goblins, and chants. I might have been born 23 decades later than my time, but not in 1776.

   I do not know how to apologize, like Socrates, it may not even matter anyway, for I have eaten of the plant, may have smoked it too. Crimes are not really crimes unless first they are constructed in the mind, though some come swift, a man knows not of his own emotions any more than we know of each other’s. A riddle that may hide the soldier within, if it were 1776. In 1776, who knows if I would have had enough heart to bleed it out in a field, where vultures ate been bones, and worms, that had fed on dead men. How can I apologize for holding true to what honorable men died to pursue, and now feed the roots of the strongest trees, for those roots run through me. 

   In 1776, I would know what I am, bad or good, because either I would be dead, or signing a document. In 1776, I would have had the chance to fight for something right instead fight for my life, for though it seems necessary it is a selfish plight. If we fight for ourselves alone, who will hold up the beams when we sleep? Keep watch in the woods? Tell you whats good? In 1776, I would have been able to keep friends, and a wife, and my children as well. I would rather be burned at the stake, hung from the neck, racked by my feet, but a torture of the mind. And we plead we have not turned to wicked ways?