Faces lined up the streets, as hot breath accumulated above their heads. A Cold dry air possesses the air, no matter sun, nor shade, nor morning nor day: It was cold. From an aerial perspective, people aimlessly traveled to and from. Meandering to stay warm, wandering to prevent boredom. Smiles offered handshakes and happiness, pure honesty given from the collected faces. It was a time for collected races. Diverse creeds and cultures, millions of people crowded from capitol hill to the lincoln sculpture.
It was written clearly on faces, as if a great fortune had overcome. It was more that a inferior had fallen. People were blissfully grateful that Bush's time had now entered its final hour.
I booed right along with them.
Now a new face, a new blame, a new scapegoat, a new savior (watch that), a new hope has taken the reigns to our limping country. We have faith that he will have us galloping back to greatness and living, thriving and boasting that we are once again the "baddest mothafucka's in the worrrld." Lest us forget the path we have traveled then we wont be reluctant to follow it again.
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