I just finished writing a poem 

 

"The Forgotten Right"

 

They wrote it bold in black and white,

A line of fire, a sacred right.

“The right to keep and bear shall not be crossed,”

But in California, that truth feels lost.

 

A maze of forms, delay and doubt,

With sheriffs picking winners out.

A CCW for those they please,

While honest folks beg on their knees.

 

You call it law, we call it chains—

Our birthright buried in red tape’s remains.

To carry peace, we fight with dread,

As rights lie bleeding, nearly dead.

 

Where are the patriots? The loud, the proud?

Most vanished in the silent crowd.

Backs turned, hands clean, eyes shut tight,

While others stand alone and fight.

 

They mock the ones who raise the cry,

Who file, who march, who ask them “Why?”

They’d rather jeer than lift a hand,

While tyranny creeps across the land.

 

They quote the Founders when it’s safe,

But vanish when the stakes turn grave.

Their rifles clean, their courage gone,

Just keyboard kings who’ve fled the dawn.

 

How heavy is this path we tread,

Where rights must plead, half-alive, half-dead?

To beg permission for what is owed—

Each step a burden, each law a load.

 

This isn’t freedom; it’s a fraud,

An insult to the founding laws of God.

And though they scoff, and though they stray,

We’ll rise, still armed, come judgment day.

 

So let them sleep and mock our flame—

We’ll fight alone, in freedom’s name.

For what was written shall not fade

,

Though cowards run, the brave have stayed.