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...

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My dear homeland, with fields so wide
And rivers that carve through vast, silent tide
On green hills where the calm winds flow
I left my heart in your soil below

Where wheat grows tall, and autumn turns gold
I, far from you, in the cold snow unfold
The distant peaks, where bears are hunted still
Sing in the breeze, a sweet, wistful thrill

Oh, my homeland, why did I leave thee?
With fo...

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