Butt Prints In The Sand

One night I had a wondrous dream,
 Footprints beside a sandy stream,
Those steps left there by God's own son,
 I looked for mine, but I saw none.

 

 

But then some stranger prints appeared,
And I asked the Lord, “What have we here?
Those prints are large and round and neat,
But Lord, they are too big for feet.”

 

 

“My child,” He said in somber tones,
“For miles I carried you alone.
 In spite of all your "Freedom" talk,
 You still refused to stand and walk."

 

 

“You wouldn't work, you wouldn't vote,
 You didn't want to rock the boat,
 And so I thought it time to cut
 Our ties and drop you on your butt."

 

 

 

“Because in life, there comes a time,
When one must fight, and one must climb,
When one must rise and take a stand,
Or leave their butt prints in the sand.”

 

If you're interested in getting off your rear end, brushing off the sand, and working for less government, more freedom, and a better life for yourself, your children and your neighbors, go here to check out the Tarrant County Libertarian Meetup.