As I lie in this box, all dirty and scuffed.
I remember the time I was shiny and fluffed.
Alone and forgotten, I doubt that is true?
For I was once savored in red, white and blue.
Although, it may seem like a long time ago.
I once flew through the air in many a show.
I was waved at through crowds as I proudly appeared.
So high I did blow and to many was feared.
It's just a matter of time, I'll be back once again.
I just don't like this box, and I do miss the wind.
Why must I wait until the fourth of July?
For I am important, it's my duty to fly.
Until then I will stay here, my memories in bloom.
Maybe the maid will soon free me, when she tidy's the room.
I know that she likes me, she flew me last spring.
Some kind of occasion, a Memorial thing.
This can't be my destiny, for I stand for truth.
I'm not just a toy, what's wrong with our youth?
I hear them play music of hate and it hurts.
I am use to large stadiums and enormous concerts.
How I long for the trumpet; A victorious sound.
Still I'm here when you're ready, not lost nor found.