That Old Flag
That old flag
It stands out there alone
Nothing else in that field
Except, it and a tombstone
They have been there
For quite a few years
When the rains come down
That flag drops her tears
It flaps there in the wind
Though no one visits the grave
He was one of so many
That so proudly gave
He was buried there
Right there on his farm
Like he told so many, before,
He lost his life in arms
When the snows move in
The tombstone, or, flag can not be seen
For, they will buried there
Under that glistening snow gleem
They say he was a good man
So proud of the uniform he wore
But, came back in pieces
From that so distant shore
Few hardly even knew him
He stayed much to himself, you see
Just farming his piece of land
Then went to war to keep it free
So, that old flag salutes him
Everytime the winds do blow
Then drips tears with each rain
And stands by him with each snow
There are so many out there
That don't know about his kind
So I thought I'd bring him up
As all of this comes to mind
Someone needs to take care of
The graves of those that gave
No matter if in Arlington
Or, way off in a distant grave
Written 3/24/2015 by Norman Hale Jr.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem