When Freedom Is Tainted

By Marie Lee

Flags are more than cloth;
they are breath stitched into colour,
a nation’s heartbeat billowing in the wind.

They rise as emblems of freedom,
calling the people to remember who they are.

Yet across bridges,
through towns and city streets,
Those same flags whisper a different song.
Not of unity
but of walls erected,
of doors closed,
of skin judged before spirit.

The St George’s flag
a red cross laid upon white,
once soaked in the memory of sacrifice,
in the blood of soldiers who gave their breath
for liberty’s promise.

But today its shadow lingers heavy,
seized by voices of hatred,
Their chants, drowning out its true meaning.

For many, that banner no longer shelters,
It wounds.
It does not welcome,
It excludes.

How bitter a truth
That's what was born for freedom
is now shackled in racism’s chains.
That a flag once lifted to unite
is now raised to divide.

Its fabric twisted into a weapon,
Its colours, stained with prejudice.

But listen closer
The flag itself does not speak.
It is the hands that hold it,
the hearts that claim it,
that writes its story.

And so, a choice remains
to let racism possess our symbols,
or to reclaim them in the name of love.

For a flag should not bleed hate;
It should breathe hope.
It should not silence voices;
It should echo them into the heavens.
It should not serve as a wall of exclusion,
but as a bridge where every child,
every woman,
every man,
finds belonging.

Only then will the fabric be healed.
Only then will the emblem of freedom
rise unstained,
as it was always meant to be.

REFLECTION
This poem is a call to remember that symbols only hold the power we give them. Though flags can be twisted into tools of division, in Christ we are called to unity, love, and belonging.

“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for we are all one in Christ Jesus.” – Galatians 3:28 (KJV)