Sam I am

by Deana Chadwell    1/18/14
(with apologies to Shell Silverstein and Dirty Dan)

I’m Uncle Sam, in a terrible jam,
And I just can’t believe what I’m seeing —
They camp in my name, an embarrassing shame,
The stoned, and the mad and the peeing.

But they see this land as a little too mean,
Or else it’s a little too rich.
It’s ugly, demanding, expensive and cruel
And unfair, and completely a bitch.
They can’t get a job; they don’t want to get clean,
And they’re too busy hating the rich.

As Uncle Sam, I am who I am
And I cannot pretend that I’m Lenin.
I won’t “cradle-to-grave;” I honor the brave
Not the selfish and whinin’ and spendin’.

I’m red, white and blue, I’m tough and I’m true;
I can’t buy that fairytale livin’–
Believin’ the gov’ment can do all my work,
My eatin’ and sleepin’ and givin’.

Think that & you steal, and don’t see what’s real
And expect someone else to fix things.
It’s time we all woke, before we all choke
And these social “injustices” nix things.

All through the land, the deluded they stand
Wielding placards that don’t speak the truth.
They think if they yell, and try hard to smell,
I’ll bow and scrape to their youth.

But not Old Sam, I’m a real stubborn man
And I know what works and what won’t;
From the lies they’ve been fed, their brains are all dead,
So I have to shout, “No, you don’t!”

‘Cause I see this land as a place to be free,
It’s freedom they want to exchange
For tuition and groceries and houses and cars —
I’m afraid they must be deranged
So let’s push ‘em back; independence is key —
We will NEVER want this kind of change.
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Deana Chadwell

About Deana Chadwell

I have spent my life teaching young people how to read and write and appreciate the wonder of words. I have worked with high school students and currently teach writing at Pacific Bible College in southern Oregon. I have spent more than forty years studying the Bible, theology, and apologetics and that finds its way into my writing whether I'm blogging about my experiences or my opinions. I have two and a half moldering novels, stacks of essays, hundreds of poems, some which have won state and national prizes. All that writing -- and more keeps popping up -- needs a home with a big plate glass window; it needs air; it needs a conversation. I am also an artist who works with cloth, yarn, beads, gourds, polymer clay, paint, and photography. And I make soap.
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2 Responses to Sam I am

  1. Timothy Lane says:

    Very nice. Too bad there’s no longer room for Sam inside the Beltway. And has anyone thought of the significance of the fact that the shock troops of the Left chose to call themselves Occupiers? Doesn’t that indicate what they — and their supporters in the Democratic Party (and thus the synoptic media) — think of the land they seek to occupy as foreign conquerors would?

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