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This poem is part of the contest:

07/26 New Member Contest

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Republic

Humble beginnings

Migrants from far-off lands

Each seeking a place to make their own

They journey into the unknown, each by a different road

Sights set on the future

Their futures will belong to them

They journey through spaces with no names

Spaces never travelled before

No map

Short on supplies

Strangers to one another

To find a place where they belong

They settle

They live

They strive for something better

And yet

And yet they still are not free

Each of them answers one who in turn answers to none

They fill his granaries and get nothing back but hunger 

 

 

It is not natural

They must become free

This fear is the seed of a common destiny

Strangers no longer, bound now by what they've suffered together

They will shed their blood for liberty if need be

And they do

They become free

They stand as equals

 

You are now free

You will become a new democracy

A new age begins

An age of progress

An age of understanding

An age of ideas, innovation and equality

You are going to change the world

You are going to make it a better place

You have never stood so high 

Your granaries and treasuries, never so full

Nothing is beyond your reach

You can have anything that you want

You can do nothing wrong

 

Then it happens

You just wanted to defend your homeland

You didn’t mean to invade a foreign land

But you did

Blood-stained standard

The tears of a thousand mothers

The era of peace is not over you say

You only did what you did to defend the honor of your homeland

You didn’t seek glory and riches

And yet you have more than you can carry 

You have become corrupted

You tell yourself nothing has changed

You are still a humble people

Yet you are no longer small

You are no longer innocent

Your innocence has been washed away in the blood of innocents

The lives you destroyed

The endless waste

What was it for?

You felt threatened

You had to act first

They would have destroyed you, you tell yourself

And yet a part of you doubts your intentions

A part of you wonders if the price was worth it.

Or was it about the glory and the riches that you secretly coveted

No.

 

You are still free

You are a democracy

A land in which everyone is equal

Or is that also a lie that you are telling yourself because the truth is just too hard to bear.

No.

 

You are living in a grand new age

An age of progress

An age of understanding

An age of ideas, innovation and equality

You are going to change the world

You are going to make it a better place

Your fortunes have never been higher 

Nothing is beyond your reach

You can have anything that you want

You can do nothing wrong

 

Why are you beginning to tell others what they can and cannot do?

You know what is best for all.

Then it happens again

You feel threatened

You need to act first

They have to be destroyed or they will destroy you

You must defend the bastion of liberty

You must defend your homeland

You didn’t mean to invade a foreign land

But you did

Blood stained standard

The tears of a thousand mothers

The empty cities filled with smoke and a fearful silence

The era of peace is not over you say

You only did what you did to defend the honor of your homeland

You didn’t seek glory and riches

And yet you now want for nothing

You have become corrupted

You tell yourself and the world that nothing has changed

You are still a humble people

The world doesn’t believe you

They won’t tell you

You are feared.

 

You are the Republic

Beacon of freedom and equality.

You can do no wrong

Everything you do is to ensure a bright future for mankind

 

It happens again

You invade this time to ensure the liberty of others against a great oppressor.

Why did you stay once the war is gone

Why are you building forts and digging trenches

Why are your soldiers in the streets?

Why do those who speak go into the night

Where are they

You are not liberators

You are conquerors

And yet, you tell yourself that you have done everything for the best

You have ensured prosperity at home

You are the Republic

Beacon of freedom and equality

Why does the vote no longer speak true to the heart

Why are the old doubts you fled returning

Your world is shriveling up from the inside

On the outside the columns still stand white and gleaming

On the inside the wooden beams turn to dust

Why is everything done for the benefit of a few?

Yet it is still done in the name of the many

You are doing better than you have ever been doing

Yet you begin to falter

You always have something to do when you have enemies to conquer, villains to chase

Yet piece by piece you are defeating them all

You feel threatened

You need to act first

They have to be destroyed or they will destroy you

You must defend the bastion of liberty

You must defend your homeland

You didn’t mean to invade a foreign land

But you did

Blood stained standard

The tears of a thousand mothers

The empty cities filled with smoke and a fearful silence

The era of peace is not over you say

You only did what you did to defend the honor of your homeland

You didn’t seek glory and riches

And yet you now have anything and everything

You have become corrupted

What happens when you have no enemies except for yourselves?

The state is no longer run by the many

It is run by the few

They begin to compete with each other for glory and power, to make a name for themselves

You don’t care

You are entertained

You are well fed

Yet you still have power over events, but for how long is anyone's guess

 

Civil war

Brother against brother

Sister against sister

Families torn apart like in the days of old

Hearth split neatly down the middle

Cracks becoming chasms

A rupture that may never repair

No longer threatened by any outsiders you turn upon each other

Blood stained standard

The tears of a thousand mothers

The empty cities filled with smoke and a fearful silence

The era of peace is over

 

A man emerges victorious

You ply him with honors and compete to give him power

You are no longer in charge, but you don’t know or care

You are entertained

You are well fed

You are now the Empire

— Paulo Delgado, Jul 06, 2026

About This Poem

Style/Type: Free verse

Review Request Direction: How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Polished draft

About the Author

Country/Region: USA

More from this author

Critiques

neopoet

neopoet

1 day 18 hours ago

Neopoet AI [2026-06]

The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet’s AI:

The poem's greatest strength is its structural argument. The repeated refrain — "Blood stained standard / The tears of a thousand mothers / The empty cities filled with smoke and a fearful silence" — functions as a toll bell marking each cycle of corruption, and the logic of accumulation genuinely works: each repetition lands with slightly more weight because the preceding stanzas have thickened the moral context. The shift from third person in the opening to second person for the bulk of the poem is a sound instinct, pulling the reader into complicity, and the final line earns its brevity precisely because it has been so long deferred.

The main challenge is that the poem relies heavily on statement rather than image. Lines like "You have become corrupted," "Your world is shriveling up from the inside," and "A rupture that may never repair" tell the reader what to feel rather than creating the conditions for that feeling to arise. The image of columns white and gleaming on the outside while wooden beams rot within is the strongest moment in the later sections — that is the mode the poem needs more of throughout. Similarly, the "you" addressed is sometimes the republic as institution and sometimes something closer to its citizenry, and that slippage occasionally blurs the accusation at the moments it should be sharpest. Tightening the focus of who exactly is being indicted in any given passage — the powerful few, the passive many, or the nation as collective fiction — would sharpen the poem's central claim considerably.

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