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I am the Flag
 
Among the dead and dying,
covered with dust and grime;
I am the flag still flying,
in this oh so scary time.

Amidst these dusty ruins, the tears
still flowed from many eyes.
I looked down and saw their fears,
their great shock and their surprise.

Raised by heroes toward the sky
on this sudden Tuesday morn.,
I became a rally cry
to sweet children yet unborn.

Though calm complacency was torn
by mad beasts outside the pale;
patriotism was reborn,
for these heroes did not fail.

We will triumph because we must
has become their rally cry.
They will emerge from any dust
and I, the flag, will ever fly.

They still embrace diversity
With a love none can assail.
When tested by adversity
they still stand, they still prevail.

Amidst the dead and dying
killed by passions uncontrolled
I am the flag still flying
raised by these heroes bold.

By blind_poet

© 2016 blind_poet (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Picture This With Devin (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Picture This With Devin (challenge has been closed)


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