Soak up the Son
Friday, July 04, 2008
I am the flag of the United States of America. My name is Old Glory. I fly atop theworld'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 then 200 years.
I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysburg,
Shiloh and Appomattox.
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'm presently in the mountains of Afganistan
and the hot and dusty deserts of Iraq
and wherever freedom is needed.
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
the grave of their fallen son or daughter,
I am Proud
