A friend had a copy of this cut out of some magazine or whatever. He felt it touched nerves in what he felt. The last sentence in his copy was in uppercase, and it was marked author unknown. I asked to borrow it to share with SM, and promised to type it and email it to him so he could widely distribute it. I did a quick search and found who the author is. <TABLE style="BORDER-COLLAPSE: collapse" border=0 cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=2><TBODY><TR><TD align=middle>A Visitor from the Past </TD></TR><TR><TD align=middle> by Thelen Paulk </TD></TR><TR><TD align=middle></TD></TR><TR><TD class=poemtext vAlign=top align=middle><TABLE style="BORDER-COLLAPSE: collapse" border=0 cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0><TBODY><TR><TD vAlign=top width="100%" align=left> I had a dream the other night, I did not understand A figure walking through the mist, with flintlock in his hand His clothes were torn and dirty; As he stood their by my bed, he took off his three cornered hat And speaking low, he said, We fought a revolution to secure our Liberty We wrote the Constitution, as a shield from tyranny For future generations this legacy we gave In this, the land of the free and the home of the brave The freedom we secured for you, we hoped you'd always keep But tyrants labored endlessly, while your parents were asleep Your freedom gone - Your courage lost - Your no more than a slave In this, the land of the free and the home of the brave You buy a permit to travel, and a permit to own a gun Permits to start a business or to build a place for one On land that you believe you own, you pay a yearly rent Although you have no voice in choosing, how the money's spent Your children must attend a school, that does not educate Your Christian values can't be taught, according to the State You read about the current news in a regulated press You pay a tax you do not owe, to please the IRS Your money is no longer made of silver or gold You trade your wealth for paper, so your life can be controlled You pay for crimes that make your nation turn from God in shame You've taken Satans number, as you traded in your name You've given government control to those who do you harm, so they can padlock churches, and steal the family farm and keep our country deep in debt, put men of God in jail, harass your fellow countrymen While corrupted courts prevail Your public servants don't uphold the solemn oath they swore Your daughters visit doctors, so their children won't be born Your leaders ship artillery and guns to foreign shores, and send your sons to slaughter, to fight other peoples wars Can you regain your freedom, for which we fought and died, or don't you have the courage or the faith to stand with pride Are there no more values for which you would fight to save, or do you wish your children, to live in fear and be a slave Sons of the Republic, arise and take a stand Defend the Constitution, the supreme law of the land Preserve our great Republic, and teach each God given right, and pray to God to keep the torch of freedom burning bright..." As I awoke he vanished, in the mist from whence he came. His words were true, We are not free, we have ourselves to blame. For even now as Tyrants, trample each God-Given Right. We only watch and tremble, too afraid to stand and fight. If he stood by your bedside, in a dream, while you're asleep, and wonders what remains of our Rights he fought to keep, What would be YOUR answer, if he called out from the Grave; "IS THIS STILL THE LAND OF THE FREE AND THE HOME OF THE BRAVE?" </TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE></TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
