What is left

[This is a reposted edited version of a previous poem of mine.]

when all we have is spent–

what will we have left?

people once before us–

stood in the same place

and believed the same things that were said; 

by those wishing to do others wrong.

and after we as a nation 

once so strong so brave so free;

as we now peril under this democracy–

what do we have left?

and we now the same as that bird

that only flies at night 

as it searches for something 

hoping– to find something to call home 

and knowing there is nothing to go home to 

even it knows that there is nothing left.