To fools who fly Confederate Flags
And hollar rebel yells,
Standing only in rotten hallways
Slaves unto themselves.
Holding on to yesterdays
How many midnights?
Flying flags of gone-by ways
And their Christian right.
Never seeing the glaring, fatal flaw
Locked into their plan;
Of denoting a piece as property
Where there was a man.
For though history’s rebellions
Are generally in right
The southern flag when brought to mind
Connotes not such a sight.
So I would ask and plead with them,
Who mean it to mean free,
To trade in this double-bladed sword
And in its place put Lee.
For a picture of the General would,
In spectrumnal way,
Reflect the right of southern’s stand
In a color not so gray.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem