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Why don’t you, Wrap yourself? In the mighty, Flag of the nation. It is guaranteed, You will need, No white fabric, To cover your restful corpse, No dressings,
My dear Betsy Ross We are in dire need of a flag How can we make a nation Without a symbol? How can we fight a war Without a banner to fly over our heads? Please, my dear Betsy Ross
Protected Strong The flag ripples in the wind so beautiful, frail, strong like our soldiers starting as frail beautiful people
50 stars The beauty of the white on blue Surrounded by a sea of Red The stars show freedom A light at the end of the tunnel Hope Yet they do not capture the essence
"Would everyone please stand for the Pledge of Allegiance."These are words I hear every day.And every day I watch my classmates standand salute a flag that waves for this countrypledging loyalty.
O say can you see America the free A place for you and me A land of greatness But only corruption I see
What does the flag mean to me? You want me to say something cliché Like freedom Joy Peace But all in all to me the flag Mean the exact opposite of free People would get mad If I were to shout America was never great But what they don't get is
A flag is something that does not change. It does not conform to the needs of a country, nor to its people to help them. It is a cold, hard reminder that the world cares for no one as individuals. To the world, we are how much money we make and ho
The land I fly for is not the land I should fly for. The land I fly for honors my stripes and stars but not each other. The land I fly for only knows inequality.
America flies, but we need to soar. We strive for higher, but pull ourselves down. We look to the left; we look to the right, When the answer is meet in the middle.
Raise the flag up from half mast.But be prepared to lower it, this peace won't last.The flag may be hih for only one day morebefore we bring it down, our hearts so sore.
I see my country's flag Snapping and unfurling above my head In the light summer breeze And I wonder, What do people across the globe feel When they see their flag flying high? Many are proud no doubt
A stop-plosive consonant tumbles from your lips; rubble of an articulated arch pressed your tongue, to the hard pallet. It finishes with a long drawn sickle of a vowel and leaves nothing but,
I see the colors red, white, and blue lying on the ground, And a dozen dead bodies lying all around. I look at the flag, the last thing I might see, And after God, most important to me.
The crowd is cheering Up in the stands. But they don't know the feeling Of the wheel in my hands. The tires are spinning, The people are wincing, At the terror and thrill of the crash
From the outside looking inI spy the winds have changed,Through the window I seeAll the things deranged.
When you wake up to go downstairs be glad you have a bed,
As we sit at a parade,
Nothing pleases me more than the sound of flags moving quickly and gracefully through the air. The beautiful motions I was taught, now shine, in front of my classmates. Some call me silly,
The woman stood in front of the table, her sad hands holding his flag. It's days like this that when she can't cope. She can't seem to forget the day they called, informing her of his death in battle.
A flag flying above the dry land Is tattered by bullets and ripped apart In the distance a person laying in the sand Claims no life, no breath, no heart But next to him, propped aside
Guns Knives Bombs Blood If you want this? You want to be Uncle Sams' son Heat Stench Burning flesh Hells just the begging of a war never won What they don't tell you When you become
I am told to some as a friend, As I flutter and bend, When the wind blows I feel so free, sitting up there so high in the breeze, So much grace, I watch as all of the soldiers race,
Sun shines through, the red white and blue. Freedom and equality. Selfless sacrifice, there was a price. Such a gift to be free.
There it is, in their eyes When they look up into the once torn skies They see what we hope to never see Lurking in shadows but praised with pleas Battle torn fields and red smoke filed nights