The United States Flag
My mom gave me a flyer she got from a friend, and I thought it would be nice to pass along the text. I have no idea where it originated. The formatting is my own - I had a few minutes to kill and thought that since I didn't feel like finding a picture of a flag for the header, I'd make it part of a flag.
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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.
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I stand for peace, honor, 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 loved - and revered. I am respected - and I am feared. I am saluted. I have flown over Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Shiloh, and Appomattox. I was there at San Juan Hill, the trenches of France, in the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome. I was there at the beaches of Normandy, Guam, Okinawa, Korea, and KhoSan, Saigon, Vietman knows me. I was there. I led my troops, I was dirty, battle worn 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 and trampled on the streets of my country. And when it's by those whom I have served in battle, it hurts. But I shall overcome, for I am strong. I have slipped the bonds of the 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 for 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 agrieving 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.
Pass it on.
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* * * * *
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, 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 loved - and revered. I am respected - and I am feared. I am saluted. I have flown over Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Shiloh, and Appomattox. I was there at San Juan Hill, the trenches of France, in the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome. I was there at the beaches of Normandy, Guam, Okinawa, Korea, and KhoSan, Saigon, Vietman knows me. I was there. I led my troops, I was dirty, battle worn 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 and trampled on the streets of my country. And when it's by those whom I have served in battle, it hurts. But I shall overcome, for I am strong. I have slipped the bonds of the 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 for 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 agrieving 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.
Pass it on.