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Our Flag Flies High
by
Christine Ritter
Our flag flies high,
As our men lay dead,
Upon the ground
Where soldiers tread.
Our flag flies high,
Our freedom strong,
We want them home,
Where they belong.
For us they fought,
For us they died.
Our battle won
With the tears
We cried.
No more laughter,
No more pain,
No more fear,
What have we gained?
For now they are gone
And our flag,
It waves
Over the land of the free
And a ground
Filled with graves.
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