The price of Freedom(tm) is sometimes
littered bodies
abandoned strollers
walkers tossed aside
with no "hallelujah"
under a red white and blue banner
spangled with blood.
The price of Freedom(tm) is sometimes
a nation so gun-harrowed
we flinch at the early
rocket's boom
in the last gleam of twilight
and wince at
a siren's red blare.
We have purchased the freedom
to shelter in place and call
it brave;
from sea to shining sea
all around us is
a grave.
