It's gone,forgotten.
Candles can't lead it home.
Millions of dollars can't buy itback.
Machines can't manufacture more.
Speeches can't call for it.
Itwill not return.
It's everywhere. All around.
Cough away thedust.
Wipe off the blood.
Dispose of the remains.
Ignore thescreams.
Still it is there.
We don't leave our doors unlockedanymore.
But we still fly our stars and stripes.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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