A Symbol of Freedom

She waves her battered arms

In surrender, crying with blood

Stained tears wondering if she’ll

Ever find peace

Standing on battlefields, watching

Bloodshed, wondering for not. Yet

She stood upright, at times wayward

Some call her Old Glory

Some say she’s a symbol

Of freedom

She watched as wars waged on

Her Native American soil, North

Against South, she had to even

Brave to see brother against brother,

Only to know a Fathers hurt and a

Mother’s tears

Bombs fall from the air, she stood

And stared but she never fell away

Torn, tattered, she understood,

Symbolically to stand tall

Some call her Old Glory

Some say she’s a symbol

Of freedom

As a young land was being formed,

She was there, star by star, stripe by

Stripe, she witnessed woman’s rights,

Whiteman’s hatred, black man’s burden

But she stood

She waves her battered arms in surrender,

Crying with blood stained tears wondering

If she’ll ever find peace

Some call her Old Glory

Some say she’s a symbol

Of freedom

Strapping up with Bombs

In the back ground I hear explosions, the inner gut has imploded

My thoughts have spit up and spewed bitterness, my existence is

bewilderment with a touch of melancholy

Sadness is my new found joy

My glass heart is full of shards and broken fragments

My back is now bent-I'm open to critique

I lie naked with my eyes open, fore night is at times too painful

I'm now vulnerable, my once glass heart is now made of stone

enclosed with barb wire

I can honestly say the world is strange, people are crazy, careless,

sleep walkers of nonchalantless "sometimes I think I might high jack

a plane", that thought leads to no where fast

Sometimes I'm ready to walk the line, the line that leads to infinity

that place we don't venture back from