To one, the stars shine bright still
and the stripes of the road are bold and guide with care
The breath of the city is sweet
and apples redden with the freeing sunset
Sirens are but the strings of an orchestra
Champagne and roses are but a fingertip away
To bathe in the warmth of freedom
and linger there for as long as they want
To another, the darkness of night engulfs the stars
blue and red fades into nothing from afar
What comes from in between is putrid and false
The apples are but the wine of spilt blood
Uncle is loud and slurs his words but too many understand
Sleep well and dream America, dream.
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