Soiled, Burned And Torn, But Still The Red, White, Blue Poem by Frank Pulver

Frank Pulver

Frank Pulver

born-(Hudson, New York) - raised-(Tampa, Florida)

Soiled, Burned And Torn, But Still The Red, White, Blue



Yes some of words might come from the Poem: My Name is Old Glory,
But if you look and listen, it is not here to tell the same story.
Let's think about how the (I) flag was flown back in the beginning,
It was being flown proudly in the battles even if we losing and not winning,
As I walked next to every Army Soldier in battle field,
Being used most of the time as a patriotic shield.
I still flew around everywhere showing everyone there was no fears.
Sometimes was being used as rag to wipe away the tears.
Yes as with the Marines, I have flown from the Halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli,
Also being it was flown and on high on the ships of the US Navy.
It is also said that how I am up with that FORCE flying high,
Up in the roaring sky.
And on every frontier,
All the way down being Guarded on the Coast at the pier.
There are times when I am Soiled, Burned, Torn,
But all it shows is that our Democracy is born,
Tears come down my eyes as I am flown at half mast,
But my happiness is shown as I am draped our fallen heroes to show them that the Respect is here to last.
As we can see that it is very true,
That there is nothing more revered then the RED, WHITE, and BLUE

By Frank Pulver SSgt /USMCR Aug 08,2011

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Frank Pulver

Frank Pulver

born-(Hudson, New York) - raised-(Tampa, Florida)
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