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The Poetry Of Del "Abe"  Jones
From The Book "The World, War, Freedom And More."

Posted Here With The Kind Permission Of The Author

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There's a wall of marble
Five hundred feet long - 
Ten feet high, scribed with names 
Of those who died, the strong. 

There's more than fifty-eight thousand
Etched upon that stone - 
Most of them died so young 
This life, they've never known.

It's such a small tribute 
To those who fought our war - 
Such a small price we pay 
To those who gave much more. 
Their name carved in a rock 
That most of us won't read - 
Not near enough praise to give 
For their most gracious deed. 
Seems there's too many of us 
Who don't really seem to care 
That we stayed home secure and safe 
While they died over there. 
Remember when you see that Wall 
With all those initials and names 
That those men were only pawns 
In one more of those deadly games. 
Let's hope what they gave had meaning - 
And that peace will always reign - 
That we won't have to send our young 
To fight and die again. 


More than two hundred years ago 
Betsy Ross sewed strips of rag - 
From those bits of colored cloth 
Was shaped "Old Glory", our grand flag. 

Stripes of red and white 
For the thirteen colonies - 
White stars against the blue Began 
waving in the breeze. 

It's gone through minor changes - 
With stars added, as we grew - 
It's flown proudly o'er our land 
And in some other countries, too. 

That symbol of our freedom - 
Should be protected, at all cost - 
But now our reverence for it 
Seems, to be getting lost. 

There are some things so sacred 
To our great American way 
That, those who desecrate it 
Should, have a price, to pay. 
Even though each buys his own 
That flag belongs to us all - 
It's owned by all the people 
And we should never let it fall. 


They said, "It's alright to burn it." 
"You can throw it to the ground." 
"You can wear it on your back. 
That symbol of the freedom bound. 

It's been through catastrophes - 
Flown high in wartimes' strife - 
Men swore they would protect it 
And did so with their life.

What makes them so supreme - 
The high court of this land 
To tell us when those Stars and Stripes 
Should fall; when they should stand. 
What right do they think they have 
To let our flag be set ablaze - 
Once, it was loved and respected - 
Back there, in the good ol' days. 


A time for picnics, time off work - 
Vacations and the "Indy" - 
A holiday, too often times 
We forget what, it should be. 

A time to pay respect to those 
Who rallied to the battle cry - 
Who gave their lives for liberty - 
Those freedoms for you and I. 

Such a waste of brave young souls -
Some still struggling through their youth 
Who faced and fell willingly 
Before wartimes' awful truth. 
So as we share this holiday 

With our friends or family - 
Take a moment to give thanks to 
Those who died so we'd stay free. 
Let us strive for world peace - 
For the end of greed and hate - 
For next time, after "the war" 
It just may be too damned late. 


This day is set aside 
to honor those 
who took the chance to die. 

But they have died in vain 
if we ever forget 
the reason why. 

Freedom can be like time 
slipping away 
before we even know. 

But we all have the choice 
more, a duty 
to battle freedoms' foe. 

Let us give thanks this day 
to all those brave 
who paid the highest cost. 

Not take it for granted 
and realize
it easily could be lost. 

American Memory

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