American Dream
The scullery maid scrubs the stoop.
The cop on the beat twirls his stick.
The rich are safe and the future smells
like an oven of blueberry muffins.
A little bird sings that a rising tide
lifts all boats and the poor believe
that someday, they, too, will have
a boat.
2 thoughts on "American Dream"
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Poignant.
us poor are idiots.
dreaming of boats when we dont even live on a beach.
great poem!