Wednesday, July 4, 2018

I am the Flag of the United States of America-Unknown Author


 (Originally Published on this website 7/2/2010-unknown origin of pic or poem)



I am the Flag of the United States of America-Author Unknown


I am the flag of the United States of America.

My name is Old Glory.

I fly atop the world's tallest buildings.

I stand watch in America's halls of justice.

I fly majestically over institutions of learning.

I stand guard with power in the world.

Look up and see me.



I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice.

I stand for freedom.

I am confident.

I am arrogant.

I am proud.



When I am flown with my fellow banners,

My head is a little higher,

My colors a little truer.



I bow to no one!

I am recognized all over the world.

I am worshipped - I am saluted.

I am loved - I am revered.

I am respected - and I am feared.



I have fought in every battle

of every war

for more than 200 years.



I was flown at Valley Forge,

Gettysburg, Shiloh and Appamatox.

I was there at San Juan Hill,
the trenches of France,

in the Argonne Forest,

Anzio, Rome and the beaches of Normandy.


Guam, Okinawa, Korea and

KheSan, Saigon, Vietnam know me.

I was there.

I led my troops, I was dirty, battleworn and tired,

But my soldiers cheered me and I was proud.



I have been burned, torn and trampled on the

streets of countries I have helped set free.

It does not hurt for I am invincible.

I have been soiled upon, burned, torn and

trampled in the streets of my country.

And when it's done by those

Whom I've served in battle - it hurts.

But I shall overcome - for I am strong.



I have slipped the bonds of Earth

and stood watch over the uncharted

frontiers of space from my vantage point on the moon.

I have borne silent witness to all of America's finest hours.



But my finest hours are yet to come.



When I am torn into strips and used as bandages

for my wounded comrades on the battlefield,

When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier,

Or when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent

at the grave of their fallen son or daughter,

I am proud.