Many people who have attended any rally at the Capitol, candidate meetings, educational meetings or fund raisers may have met or observed Max who is one of the leaders of the Front Range 9-12 group and organizer assisting other liberty groups. Monday afternoon following the "We Are The People" rally I had an opportunity to really visit with Max and learn more about his background and interests. He mentioned his grandson and commented about writing this poem. He decided to share it with the liberty leaders and given permission to share. Max is a Patriot with a pen.

Max's Poem:


HOW WILL YOU ANSWER YOUR GRANDSON?
by J.L. (Max) Brewster


My Grandson came over the other day
He's grown up now and I'm old and gray
Asking Grandpa, why did you give my freedom away?
With a trembling voice, this is all I could say

I tried my hardest, I protested, I wrote
To my Congressman, Senators, and I did always vote
I learned about issues, the Constitution, and more
I thought of your brother and cousin, I'll stop this I swore

I found like minded people but our numbers were few
We gathered together, got involved, we all knew
That our republic was dying, the Constitution was dead
Put down by elitists and those who wore red

I did all I could and I'm sorry my son
Tears rolled down my face, I wish we had won
He gave me a hug, said I'm proud Grandpa to know
That you tried your hardest, wouldn't let freedom go

I thought of his question I wished would have been
Grandpa what saved the republic? How did you win?
You had no money, connections, or clout
How did this happen? What was it about?

I told him how corruption had swept over the land
People gathered together, they marched hand in hand
To the Capitol in Washington, then their state, then their town
Once involved and informed, no one could keep them down

We chose principled leaders to take up the fight
Against power, corruption, and to do what was right
Things started to change rather quickly at first
Freedom flooding the land like a dam that had burst

Government shrunk smaller and smaller, it was amazing to see
Bureaucrats getting their pink slips instead of you and me
Businesses started to prosper and many came back
The reason? No magic, just much lower tax

I came back to reality, my heart sank like a stone
Back to reality, no freedom, I'm chilled to the bone
The government runs everything, they knock on my door
Inspecting my thermostat, my light bulbs, and more

I still keep on thinking and remembering a time
When I was truly free and my property was mine
But my Grandson knows one thing, that he is not free
No, not like I was and he is beginning to see

That maybe its possible to once more light that spark
Of freedom and liberty that will light up the dark
And maybe his generation will turn the spark to a flame
That went out under my watch, I still am to blame

So when your Grandson comes to you a generation from now
What will he say? Will he ask how
Did you lose my freedom? Why didn't you fight?
Or will he say? I love you Grandpa. Thank you for protecting my rights

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Comment by Theresa Collins on January 10, 2011 at 10:31pm

Oh Man. I'm just reading this post Wilma. What a great poem. I know Max and thankfully we have him.  I'll pass this on.

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