Beneath The American Flag

Hey Everyone!

Today, I have something I wrote a while back. It's a bit rough, I'm not much of a poet, but I felt I needed to say something and this is the way it came out. Hopefully, you'll like it. Peace!

Beneath The American Flag

We fought the King and broke the chains of monarchy, beneath the American flag. A banner for a brave, new world planted on land stolen from those already here; a symbol of freedom and equality made from cotton picked by the hands of those in bondage. Hope for a brighter future; old sins atoned and old mistakes corrected.

We formed a nation in truth, no longer merely a beautiful dream. Land of the free and home of the brave; borne on the backs of slaves and risen from the ashes of genocide. Ends justify means beneath the American flag.

We preserved our union; freed the slaves, but denied them the vote. Liberty was said to reign while Jim Crow flourished, beneath the American flag.

We sent forth a cry to the world: "Send us your tired and poor!" But forgot to mention we'd prefer that they look, talk, and think like us. The burden of diversity too much to bear beneath the American flag.

We gave women the vote; a voice for the voiceless. Then crafted laws that made them chattel; the tears of those denied control of their own bodies concealed beneath the American flag.

We stormed the beaches; defeated the Nazis on foreign soil, but fostered them at home. Hate hides so easily when cloaked beneath the American flag.

We brought freedom and democracy to countries around the world, our stars and stripes proudly declaring peaceful intentions. Objections were silenced with napalm and gunfire; hands stained with blood hidden beneath the American flag.

We locked the children up in cages and justified our tyranny with hateful lies and bigotry. ICEstapo's persecution of poor, brown people dissembled into false patriotism, beneath the American flag.

We deadened our conscience at every test and trial. Until, at last, a final nail in the coffin of our broken promises; a blood-soaked vessel filled with egalitarian dreams shattered and turned to dust. Tatters of Old Glory waving in the wind; a melancholy tribute to the American ideal that died, betrayed, beneath the American flag.