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THE BLOODY OLD RAG

Phil Roberts 1957 (Melbourne)

There’s a tattered and bloody old rag
Which jingoists call to rejoice;
And racists and bigots all brag
For which millions have died, by free choice.

For millions, the banner has killed
Some claim that they all had to die;
Re corpses whose life it has stilled
Some will tell almost any old lie.

It’s a wicked old banner of hatred
That brings to the nation great shame;
Moth-riddled yet some over-rate
Pretending we should not ‘cept blame.

It’s a bloody old guidon of death
That teaches us all how to hate;
Till we speak evil with e'ery breath
All for bigotry we cannot sate.

It’s a worthless piece of the old
That keeps us from embracing the new;
And with every corpse that turns cold
We will sing for the Red, White, and Blue!

THE END
© Copyright 2021, Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia

About this poem

I hate national flags, which I see as banners of hate and an excuse to murder others! This poem refers specifically to the Australian National Flag!

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Written on December 01, 2012

Submitted by PHIL_ROBERTS on July 23, 2021

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Phil Roberts

I am 64 and loves cats, rock music, and horror fiction and poetry more…

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