Don't burn the flag. Wash it!
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READ THE POEM +/-
Let us sense the grace to be humane
with our souls and hearts
over the taste of power.
The country we knew and have known
is the same, thrusting her obdurate head high,
holding flag and pride,
pretending accord to God’s side.
The time is nigh of our humbled cessation.
Our splendor crushed in the axis of history
as awful and divine as shrapnel
piercing the soul of a peacekeeper
whose heart beats death’s drum
and whose head stretches its neck out upon the stone.
Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman
Ben Heine - Cartoons
Monday, November 20, 2006
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