Tread on Me

Can’t promise to speak for my generation,
or my neighborhood, or the local PTA;
wouldn’t stand up and fight with Washington,
or Burgoyne, and if Nelson knocked,
I’d do everything to remain unimpressed.
I’ll stay that liberal conservative, that outsider
clamoring, banging at the door, demanding
even when the door is opened,
and I become an invited guest –
I am the eagle that doesn’t land,
the cryptic note that is never bottled,
the footprint never printed in the sand.

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