America, My Home

By Andrew R. Duckworth

America, flawed but beautiful-
Flawed with hopes of control,
Beautiful with hopes of promise.
My ancestors stepped off of ships,
Coming from far away places-
Each with struggle ahead,
But knowing those ahead
Did not outweigh those behind-
America, beautiful with promise.
But, in disembarking,
They found the lion’s den-
The one that spit at them,
The one that hissed at them,
The one that kept
A skeptical eye on them,
Always waiting for a misstep-
Irish Catholics need not apply.
America, flawed with control.
But America is home.
America was free once-
Free with promise,
Free from control.
America is my home.
Perhaps she will be free again.