The Flag That Burns in the Night.

I wrote a poem about how the flag is symbolic and represents our great country, even though it is not always honored and respected the way it should be.

What speaks to me is not new,
It has been around since the beginning of our land.
"God bless America,"
They all spit the words out of their mouths
What does it really mean to them anyway?

People in the streets yelling and screaming,
they see the fires and the war running the town.
Hate is filling America and is spreading to the world.
"In God We Trust"
They say it loud.
But what are they really saying?

They drag it on the ground, they spit on it.
They throw it around like a toy.
The stripes of of blood, the blue of war
"Whose broad stripes and bright stars"
Its nothing to them.
They feel nothing, it's nothing to them.
It's just a thing that can burn.

And so yet again it is burned.
Burned in hate and war.
But somehow looking at it burst into flames speaks to me.
This is my country going down the drain.
We can change it, we can pour the water on it like before.
The image will still be in my heart.

The flag that stands tall, whether new, old or burnt,
It means only one thing.
America is here.
No matter how many flags are burned, it will be in my heart forever.
"My country tis of thee."
"The home of the brave."
America is still here.

The flag that burns in the night, is shining in the sun of a new day.

-Leslie