“To be an American is to recognize the sacrifice of the widow and the orphan; it is to understand the weft of tent cities expecting caravans, and the heft of a child in a camp not meant for children, or sitting before a judge awaiting judgement. What do we say to the native whose lands we now inhabit? What do we say to our immigrant fathers who held certain truths to be self-evident? Do we now still pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, our sacred honor. There are no kings in America. Only gilded men we can topple again and again.” AmericaPoetryDemocracySacrificeKingsPoemImmigrantsNative AmericansFounding Fathers Author:Aileen Cassinetto