In the deep November violence freedom killed the second son The patsy was buried in silence The third son said, "Look what your guys have done" Three dark days in the chilling fall An empty saddle, a boot turned back Mourning faces, our flag for a pall Her beautiful strength veiled in black The truth is hard to come by Covered up by dangerous rogues Years of deceit and secret lives The hidden verity that someone knows Our given rights have been taken The solid grounds for which we stand Our patriotic existence has been shaken By this death of one great man Yes freedom shook in late November A crossfire that took our own Now we are left to ponder and remember The day when Camelot was dethroned
11/13/2003
Posted on 11/13/2003Copyright © 2024 Thomas K. Hunt
a subject dear to my daughter's heart, the Camelot legend, well-addressed here. Indeed, we all have our Camelots. I like the language and the formality due to the old times, and the structure, very much, along with the message.
What a sad day indeed. Good poem Tom...Charlie
this is poignant and sensitive and excellent... you have captured the thoughts of millions... blessings...
