It flies amongst the stars.
Flashes for a moment.
Despite the left scars.
Holds a place close, yet far.

It carries the fallen.
From mistaken paths.
To reaches impossible.
And develops new plans.

It creates new countries.
Raises dead soldiers.
Stamps unsung heroes.
With a feeling of free.

Hear its silent sound.
Open up your eyes.
Place it in your heart.
Elevate from the ground.

It helps us climb.
Better than rope.
Do you see its shape?
It is hope.

I thought of my ancestors who had fought
Not for, but against the Americans
What thought they of the freedom Yankees sought?
And what when they were driven from those lands?

I looked over the tartans of the Scot
And was told they were killed for what they wore
I wondered why the world had not been taught
That blood and gore is all that comes of war

I thought of colors orange and colors green
Of what religion has made people do
What does all that hatred really mean?
How do all these thing really affect you?

Coming from a land that claims to be free
I can’t tell you what that word means to me