I am the flag of the
                
                
                  United States of
                  America.
                
                
                   
                
                
                  I fly atop the world's
                  tallest buildings.
                
                
                  I stand watch in
                  America's halls of justice.
                
                
                  I fly majestically
                  over institutions of learning.
                
                
                  I stand guard with
                  power in the world.
                
                
                  Look up and see me.
                
                
                
                
                  I stand for peace,
                  honor, truth and justice.
                
                
                  I stand for freedom.
                
                
                  I am confident.
                
                
                  I am arrogant.
                
                
                  I am proud.
                
                
                
                
                  When I am flown with
                  my fellow banners, my
                  head is a little higher,
                
                
                  my colors a little
                  truer.
                
                
                
                
                  I bow to no one!
                
                
                  I am recognized all
                  over the world.
                
                
                  I am worshipped - I am
                  saluted.
                
                
                  I am loved - I am
                  revered.
                
                
                  I am respected -- and
                  I am feared.
                
                
                
                
                  I have fought in every
                  battle of every war for more than 200 years.
                
                
                   
                
                
                  I was flown at Valley
                  Forge, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Appomattox. I
                  was there at San Juan Hill, the trenches of France, in the
                  Argonne Forest,
                  Anzio, Rome and the beaches of Normandy, Guam.
                
                
                
                
                  Okinawa, Korea and
                  KheSan, Saigon, Vietnam know me, I was there. I
                  led my troops, I was dirty, battle worn and tired, but my
                  soldiers cheered
                  me and I was proud.
                
                
                
                
                  I have been burned,
                  torn and trampled on the streets of countries I
                  have helped set free. It does not hurt, for I am invincible.
                
                
                
                
                  I have been soiled
                  upon, burned, torn and trampled on the streets
                
                
                  of my country. And
                  when it's by those whom I've served in battle --it hurts. But
                  I shall overcome -- for I am strong.
                
                
                
                
                  I have slipped the
                  bonds of Earth and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers
                  of space from my vantage point on the moon.
                
                
                
                
                  I have borne silent
                  witness to all of America's finest hours. But my
                
                
                  finest hours are yet
                  to come.
                
                
                   
                
                
                  When I am torn into
                  strips and used as bandages for my wounded comrades
                  on the battlefield, When I am flown at half-mast to honor
                  my soldier, or when I
                  lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent at
                  the grave of their fallen son or daughter, I am proud.
                
                
                
                
                  MY NAME IS OLD GLORY
                  ... LONG MAY I WAVE.
                  By Howard Schnauber
                  
 
                  
                    You
                    can read a bio about him and see his picture at a web page
                    from the Fort Collins, Colorado Library.  The site
                    address is:
                  
                  
                     
                  
                  
                  
                     
                  
                  Thank
          you to several readers for letting me know the author of this
          beautiful poem, who has now been given credit as the writer.