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The Awakening of Uncle Sam
One June-born morn, he rose again,
From slumber deep, through fog and rain.
Top hat askew, stars slightly worn,
He blinked - confused, both proud and torn.
The billboards screamed in crimson red:
“Make America Great Again,” it said.
He frowned, recalling distant years,
Of sacrifice, of hopes, of tears.
He scrolled the screen with weathered hands:
Tax cuts, coal, divided lands.
Judges...
Monday 2nd June 2025 4:53 am
Peering through cigarette smoke
Friday 11th January 2013 8:16 am
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