Eye of the Beholder
This country has its history
One that is forever stitched into the flag
That flies high, swaying to each breeze that passes by
But can it ever be great to those who live every day
With those skeletons pushed away in the closet
Its very existence ignored by those
Who can`t seem to face the reality
That this country has never been that great
Just like a story there are many sides
A flag meant to represent valor, justice, and innocence
the colors meaning has changed
White is a level of purity and innocence
That has never really been attainable
To those who witnessed the soil turn red
the blood that has paved these streets
Since the crossing of the ocean blue.
To describe the working men and women
Who, no matter how hard they work
Can`t seem to reach that upper level.
And just like beauty, greatness is in the eye of the beholder