I Am The Flag
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 then 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.
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 on the streets of my country.
And when it’s 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.
MY NAME IS OLD GLORY
LONG MAY I WAVE.
DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN:
LONG MAY I WAVE
PLEASE FORWARD MY MESSAGE TO ALL WHO
STILL LOVE AND RESPECT ME,
THAT I MAY FLY PROUDLY FOR
ANOTHER TWO HUNDRED YEARS.
Author Unknown
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110 Stories
By Sasha Taylor
110 stories fell on top of me today,
I didn’t think the pain would ever go away.
When it finally did I realized where I was at,
Sitting at the gates of Heaven was exactly where I sat.
I tried to remember; at last it finally came,
Could this be a joke? Is this some sick twisted game?
A loud explosion from upstairs,
People panic and start to yell,
A man in a wheel chair starts to cry,
All I could think of was I was going to die.
Step after Step we ran from our fears,
I thought I would drown from the flow of our tears.
People started panicking and going insane,
I knew exactly what they were feeling for I felt their pain.
Nobody knew what happened,
All we knew was we didn’t have long,
To get out of the building before it was collapsed and gone.
All of a sudden I felt the ground start to shake,
None of this was real it was totally fake.
Then the floors started to fall,
I froze from panic, and couldn’t believe what I saw.
The smoke was so thick I couldn’t see,
Why in the world was this happening to me?
My life is now gone; on this earth I have no more time,
Even though I’m innocent I never committed the crime.
——————————————————————————–
Osama Bin Laden
By Sasha Taylor
We must catch this deadly murderer,
That killed so many of our own kind.
If he thinks he’s getting away with this,
He’s lost his mind.
We sat and watched him so many times,
Get away with acts just like these.
He’s not getting away with it this time,
He’s committed too many of these deeds.
This time he went a little too far.
Were putting up a fight,
He needs to know this time.
The U.S. is right,
He can’t hide out.
Well get him soon enough.
He’s learning now were independent and strong,
This U.S. is tough.
Maybe he’ll surrender,
And come out and confess.
Maybe, only if he was smart,
He’d know that’s what’s best.
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The Lost
By Sasha Taylor
We mourn the lost,
We sit and cry.
We were the fortunate ones,
We didn’t die.
They suffered,
They went through pain.
We watched it on T.V.,
While they went insane.
Now we must fight; we must die,
While they watch; while they stand by.
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WAR
By Sasha Taylor
The countless hours pass me by,
As the memories of lost Americans slowly die.
Today is peaceful, tomorrow who knows?
War is uncertain, that’s how it goes.
I can imagine the towers falling to the ground,
Shrieks of panic circulate from all around.
It can’t be stopped now,
Its useless to try.
We can sit around amazed,
While fellow Americans die.
Right now during this time,
Americans are referred to us a “team.”
When were not in this type of mess,
that’s not how things seem.
But for us who are left, please sit down and pray,
Not only for the victims and their families,
but thank God for sparing your life that day.
Although nothing like this has happened to us in years,
Now America is being flooded with the flow of our tears.
The U.S. won’t stand for this,
We’re independent and strong.
We need to get to the bottom of this,
before more innocent people are gone.
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Remembering September 11th
by Lisa Ponder
Bombs dropped on our town,
and two beautiful buildings came down.
All the people started to frown.
You can hear them all through the night.
I huddle in a corner frozen with fright.
The lights have gone out; it’s a power cut.
I cover my ears, and my eyes are held shut.
I hear the sirens; I hear a crash.
I hear more people crying in a bash.
I feel for mother; I cry her name.
I feel a warm puddle, and the war is to blame.
Oh, isn’t that a shame?
I sit and weep all through the night.
Wondering how September 11th could have been such a fright.
Holding my mother’s body oh so tight.
Then I pray for all my friends,
as I watch their family’s and our world come to an END!
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Who Am I
By Kimberly Dunne
I am no one special.
I’m the little boy that gives up his favorite teddy bear so that a stranger might be comforted.
I’m the single mother who has been trying to teach her child to sleep in their own bed, who holds them tight long into the night, thanking God it wasn’t her child that died.
I’m the old man, angry and resentful that his military doesn’t want him because of his age.
I’m the teenage girl that spends hours cutting ribbons for others to wear as a symbol of remembrance.
I’m the young man who doesn’t understand why his father was running up the stairs as the building fell, trying to save just one more person, instead of saving himself.
I’m the old woman who will never see her grandchild again.
I’m the little girl, playing with her doll, who can’t understand when someone screams hateful things at her because of where her family is from.
I’m the police officer, trying to keep idiotic reporters safe, when his wife is still among the missing.
I’m the fire fighter that called in sick that day, only to discover that someone else died in his place.
I’m the man who survived the falling building only to learn that his sister and baby niece were in the plane.
I’m the secretary, angered by the seemingly callous response of those around her.
I’m a spelunker, who is climbing down into the remains of a building, hoping to find someone still alive.
I’m the dog handler, searching for bodies, that has to comfort my animal when only death remains.
I’m the woman who stands in line for five hours in order to give blood, hoping to help strangers in need.
I’m the man who gets up and goes to work every day, in spite of the tragedy, because he still has a family to feed.
I’m the first passenger to get back on a plane, even though I’m terrified, because I know somebody has to be first.
Who am I?
I’m nobody special.
I’m just an American.
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Towers of Life
They stood hushed and glimmering in the night,
Giants able to frame the moon,
Slumbering magnificently in their might.
Day breaks and the sun gently warms their skin,
Veins begin to pulse with life,
The sprit of a thousand of kin.
Evil tears towards them through the brilliant morning sky,
Propelled by the blackest of hate,
Guided by a lie.
Barely risen they stand with no defense,
Innocent and distracted they are not prepared,
The pain about to be inflicted intense.
Like a bolt of lighting that shatters the morn,
Evil crashes once then twice into their sides,
Their bodies are scorched and torn.
Horribly crippled they continue to stand,
Holding onto life until the last,
Orders are given, they take the command.
The battle is brief, the giants begin to yield,
Life drains from every artery,
Their fate is sealed.
Collapsing to zero,
First to one knee then to the next,
From their dust will emerge so many a hero.
The question is asked,
How can such evil exist.
JDK
