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Hoisted up high very early each morning
a steadfast symbol of our great power.
Flapping and rustling gently in the breeze
high atop the World Trade Center tower.

In those moments of unthinkable tragedy
innocence was lost in fire, smoke and dust.
Our anger, fear and sorrow were heartfelt
but in her colors we all knew we could trust.

Tumbling flag of freedom
shattered, tattered and torn.
Found crumpled amid the rubble
unfurled again and reborn.

For the many days we searched and prayed
there was one thing that strengthened us all.
This was the red, white and blue Glory
hung up and displayed proudly on the wall.

This flag will always be a shining beacon
held in high reverence for all to see.
Frayed, ripped and damaged but still intact
a signal to all that we will remain free.

I'm making this into a song too, with the third stanza as the chorus...