I was walking down the national mall in washington d.c. the other day and i suddenly realized this country is mine more so than theirs, the ones who have money, wealth, and have never suffered the pain of never having enough nor ever looking around and sayingbecause by looking around, at the black wall remembering the dead in vietnam, the world war two memorial, all the buses lined up, arriving and departing, like the body bags wherever they find themselves, tucked in some foxhole, oswampland, thats not your carolinas hometown, man, not deporting, all those veterans, and their families, who may have voted for them, only to keep embracing the sacrifices made, making sure its their country too. But sacrifice and pain isnt the only realixation i felt. Not just the memorials but the ideals represented in the monuments to mlk, jefferson, lincoln, and the museums dedicated to african americans, native americans, that tell a different story, the story ideals upon which we all have st...
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