The Sights I See
Bodies huddled around me.
They raise me up in the name of Jesus Christ.
I'm at the top, looking out above the street.
I'm the watcher of homes and children.
It's July, fireworks bombard the air around me.
Below, thousands cheer on, wanting more.
The wind ruffles my skin, this is home.
I'm younger now, less stars.
I'm raised as the men around me yell out "Remember the Alamo!"
My edges are frayed, bullets rain onto my skin.
Back to the present.
People, children nonetheless, pray beneath me.
I am whole.