“‘Tis Well”: An Original Poem

On a cold December day,

The sky was dull and gray.

 

The river Potomac lay frozen,

The sounds of birds, painfully broken.

 

People arrived in droves for the procession,

Many aghast at the shocking revelation.

 

A great white steed trod slowly through the crowds of Virginia,

The empty saddle signifying the great loss for America.

 

The one Wheatley praised for his valor and virtue more,

Now lay forever behind heaven’s door.

Despite his request for a private burial,

Americans flocked to see the greatest memorial.

 

Thunderstruck most were for they could not have conceived,

A man as great would so soon be grieved.

The troops, the band, the mourners marched on,

Heavy hearts, each, in disbelief that he was gone.

 

The clergy prayed and the Masons performed the final rites,

Some watched while others took to flight.

The shroud concealed the greatest American,

Who lived by principles now long forgotten.

 

In the simple red brick tomb in Mount Vernon he now lays,

Unaware of the mayhem of his country’s present days.

A man once celebrated and unanimously elected,

Is now forgotten and mostly disrespected.

 

For ‘tis true he was born in February,

But they will not even honor his memory.

 

Columbus Day they gladly celebrate,

But a special day for this extraordinary Leader, they hate.

 

Of all the politicians we see,

He was the greatest Statesmen there shall ever be.

  

Should you ever hold a dollar in your hand,

Do remember that George Washington was a great man.