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The Statue of Liberty, weary and gray, Sat on a bench where dreams went astray. Amidst the rubble and urban decay, She sighed for the hope that had slipped away. Once she stood tall, a beacon bright, Guiding the lost through the darkest night. Now, in silence, she mourned the past, In a city where shadows were cast. Her torch, now dimmed, no longer burned, As streets lay empty and the world turned. Liberty wept for the promises made, In a land where dreams had slowly decayed. Alone she sat, with rusted tears, A symbol of bygone years. Amongst the ruins, a silent plea, For the lost light of liberty.
Is “The American Dream” Dying?
The Statue of Liberty, weary and gray,
Sat on a bench where dreams went astray.
Amidst the rubble and urban decay,
She sighed for the hope that had slipped away.
Once she stood tall, a beacon bright,
Guiding the lost through the darkest night.
Now, in silence, she mourned the past,
In a city where shadows were cast.
Her torch, now dimmed, no longer burned,
As streets lay empty and the world turned.
Liberty wept for the promises made,
In a land where dreams had slowly decayed.
Alone she sat, with rusted tears,
A symbol of bygone years.
Amongst the ruins, a silent plea,
For the lost light of liberty.
