LeliaThomas.Com

Faded Stars and Stripes by Lelia Thomas

The stars flash white amid royal blue,
As snowy lines bend to the breeze;
Dancing, curling, rippling red blood lines–
The crisp snap of cloth while riding high.

The teachings and trust are deeply rooted,
As all the children stand tall and proud;
Hand on heart, eyes cast upward: liberty drips from little lips–
The haunting echo of words in a one-room schoolhouse.

The guards have them lined up now; the roar of planes above,
As the innocent are made suspect and filled with fear;
Patting, rummaging, questioning to demonstrate control–
The price of rights for temporary security.

The McCarthyism’s quiet; replaced by a patriotic act against themselves,
As a robotic, airbrushed man reads the morning headlines;
Hands on mouth, eyes closed tightly, ears deaf and dull–
The Whiskey Rebellion was the least of their worries.

The stars are yellow against slate grey,
As faded lines wilt in still air;
Drooping, wrinkling, dying blood lines–
The dead silence of a flag at half mast.

A whisper is left
And carried on the wind,
To fly with dandelion seeds–
To be forgotten and faded in the distance.

Details

The government is merely a servant–merely a temporary servant; it cannot be its prerogative to determine what is right and what is wrong, and decide who is a patriot and who isn’t. Its function is to obey orders, not originate them. –Mark Twain