Poetry Heroes and Patriotic

Freedom's Source

FREEDOM'S SOURCE

"It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the press.

It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech.

It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us the freedom to demonstrate.

It is the soldier, not the lawyer, who has given us the right to a fair trial.

It is the soldier, who salutes the flag...who serves under the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag...who allows the protestor to burn the flag.

Were it not for the brave... there would be no land of the free."

Author Unknown

Our Freedom Isn't Free

Our Freedom Isn't Free

I am a U.S veteran; the Army was my choice. I'm grateful for this moment here to stand and speak my voice. The topic that I represent with pride and glory true, about the flag we know and love; the red, the white and blue. The flag still stands for freedom; for the strong and for the weak. To give us all the right we have to open up and speak. For Flag Day is an honor that we owe our happiness, to soldiers whom have served us well, in this country where we're blessed.

The U.S flag we know and love Old Glory! Stars and Stripes! May under God, we always pledge, to stand for what is right. Our flag in which we put our faith, our love, our hopes and trust, this flag in which we should respect for righteous peace we must. A flag, that in so many lands, she's horribly abused. By being burned and torn apart, dishonored, and refused. The burning of our nations flag dishonors those who rest. For them I will defend her still and always do my best. To show the people of the world the good that we have done through battles of land, and air and sea, in victories we've won.

The colors of our nations flag depict a sacred song, like brothers names upon a wall as those of Vietnam. We've planted her on foreign lands in dirt with stains of red, forgetting not, Korean vets whose blood they also shed. The caring of, disabled vets, becomes our nations plight. For wounded heroes shine the way like peaceful stars of white. For World War two, a star of blue is hanging in the glass, while mothers mourn, upon a cross that rests above the grass.

I'm proud to be American, in knowing that I'm free, to men and women whom have served who gave that right to me. For every fallen soldier, and for every life they'd give to guarantee our freedom and the liberty we live. For those who served beside me and for those who serves us now, let us fly our flag up proudly and show other nations how. For a desert's storm can blind a heart and make some turn their backs, but avenging souls of nine one, one (9*1*1) is why we're in Iraq. We all need to come together, not divided but as one, to stand up tall to terrorists and show them how it's done!

It brings me such emotion when I think about the brave, the strength, the blood, the sweat and tears their lives in which they gave, for us to have a freedom that no other people know. A life without oppression, where our kids are free to grow. Our troops will have to travel far, with guns in hand, to face the war. They leave their loved ones far behind so we can be with yours and mine. To fly the flag in which we raise, some have to fill an honored grave, with blood they know they'll have to shed, for stars and stripes of blue and red. The flag draped caskets that we see honoring the bold of those that stay forever young so we can still grow old. We give the flag with memories secured within its folds, to loved ones that are left behind, what's left of those to hold. What glory and such honor! So brave! So strong! So young! Please rest yourselves in peace my friends, your duty here is done. And though you may not be a soldier fighting for your land their voice is crying from the
grave, "Stand up and take a stand!" for of their death and sacrifice they bought a brand new day to wave the flag and raise your hand and let you have your say. So fly that flag with honor through whatever storms descend, that united we shall stand together and be faithful till the end. Until all our soldiers come from war, until the battle ends. Until everyone is safe at home, with family and friends, I shall fly my nations flag with joy for all the world to see that through serving all humanity our freedom isn't free.

Written and recited for

The NM Elks Lodge Flag Day Ceremony June 14th 2007 by: Vanessa A. Griego Gulf War Veteran

IF HE DOESN'T COME HOME...

Thank you for reading this work and considering it for publication.
I have been an Active Duty Army Wife for over 10 years, an active volunteer on Ft.Bragg, NC, and have won the Iron Mike Volunteer and Leadership awards while we were stationed there for a time span of 7 years. My husband is an active duty Drill SSG currently and we have just PCSed to Ft. Gordon, GA.
I hope that this piece touches your heart. I thank you for your time. It was written because one of my Sister Army Wives' husband had been deployed on his FOURTH tour downrange.

IF HE DOESN'T COME HOME...
If he doesn't come home this time,
Please God allow my feminine shoulders to bear
Worldly weights left by his long absence.
Should I lose my soul mate on this tour

If he doesn't come to me, to our world
Grant me grace in knowing that my love
He knows, that it embraces him even in the dust
Thick Red-muck earth his boots will walk miles in

If he cannot come home to his children
Allow skill to soften the stab of that steely knife
Give me the words I can use to ease pain of loss
When I will be blinded by it myself

If he sacrifices his life with, and for, his brothers and sisters,
Understand my grief goes hand in hand with my pride.
That he stands beside them, that he does his duty,
He is and will always be my Hero.

If he doesn't come home from this war,
Please God, if this happens to him, take him fast
Do not let him suffer, do not make him endure torture
He deserves no such hardships, my brave soldier.

If he does not come home to me and war keeps him,
I will be cried empty but breathing I will continue my job
I will count days, waiting for my steps to slow, for my hair grow white
When I again will be wrapped within him, buried in damp earth.

If he does not come home to me this time,
Whisper to him before his lids forever close softly
Sweet shining star, my rain, my coffee maker, my Prince,
Remind my warrior my heart goes wherever he does..

Thank you again,
Mrs. Jessica Pavillard.

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