An original poem by
Patricia Yvette Bartholomew

I give thanks unto my God
for the sweet blessings
of this free land.

Here came our parents from
far and farther.
Breaking forever the bonds of
ancient tyranny.

Tyranny, the wicked foe
they slew with freedom's blade.
Then into plowshares the sword was beat.
And we live in freedom's sweet repose.

To pray to whomever we choose.
To express and to protect and to meet.
We, the people, freely chose a more
perfect union,
and guaranteed with simple, solemn covenant
the everlasting justice of this land.

Half slave - half free,
Rescinded forever with the stroke of
wisdom's pen.
Then sealed with blood when
brother faced brother upon
the bittersweet fields of home,
To bring forth a new birth of freedom in this,

America,

Where shoulder to shoulder we
hope ever to stand.
Breathing life always into their dreams.
Asking not what is ours to take,
But humbly pledging our full
measure of devotion to
the martyr's fateful vision.

So that we may behold our
children's children say
to their God,
Thank You, Almighty, we
are free at last.