Sonnet for the Grievances
They gathered not with swords but pens in hand,
To list the wrongs a distant king had done.
From broken laws to armies on their land,
Their cause was voiced beneath the July sun.
No vote, no law, no voice, no jury fair,
Their towns were burned, their judges bought and sold.
In every line, a cry rang through the air:
"We are not beasts, but equals-strong and bold!"
From pain, they shaped a charter born of grace,
With checks, with votes, with branches held apart.
They answered force with form, and rage with place
Where future wrongs might meet a people's heart.
Now ink, not iron, guards the people’s door-
A parchment shield that grows forever more.