In this world of politically correct
There comes a phrase: politically suspect.
Our words, a weapon used against our life,
Even if our intent was not for strife.
Squeezed into a vacuum of neatly worded verbage.
Which spews out its remains-it then resembles garbage.
To be afraid of which words we can say,
Is not the way the framers said that day.
The right to speak, no matter what the cost,
Infringed upon, in this world at great loss.
Our country built on freedom through our speech,
Renew this purpose, for which we nobly reach.