by Patrick Patterson
Thursday, December 13, 2001
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I stood amidst the confederate dead.
The pride of the stars and bars.
And thought about what lincoln said,
About this land of ours.
Built upon a peculier notion,
That people should be free.
The last full measure of devotion.
Is alike to the confederacy.
How comes to pass a union great.
Can heal the old divisions.
The gallant dead of both sides wait.
Brother to brother, blue to grey.
Alike in their nationhood.
Each believing in his own way.
That their devotion would.
Serve their home and hearth and kin.
By self determination.
Each thinking that their fight had been.
An act of liberation.
Let all recall we're only men.
And men make bad decisions.
The partnership has never been.
That hasn't had divisions.
But courage, honor strength, and pride.
Are to all men the same.
Let no brave man on either side,
Go to his grave in shame.
We've always been just one army.
Though it once wore blue and grey.
Let us honor their brave memory.
In our own American way.
Let us celabrate the confedercy.
Let us swear solemn communuion.
One people one hope one destiny.
Let us consecrate reunion.
May every honored soldier lie
Revered for his contribution.
Hero of a union that didn't die.