I hear the sound of distant guns, <br />as good lives march away, <br />to foreign lands to fight and die, <br />to preserve the rights of freedom, <br />for those in that distant land, <br />can have the right to live, <br />and not under a tyrant’s hand. <br />They go not as heroes for glory, <br />but to help innocent souls, <br />so they can sleep securely at night. <br />However, the battlefield where they are, <br />hold allsorts of dangers there, <br />some will never return safely home. <br />Their souls will look over <br />the battlefield where they fell, <br />possibly wondering at <br />the folly of it all. <br />Therefore, the next time you look at, <br />a monument with columns of names, <br />remember that their sacrifice <br />was made not for one, but for all.<br /><br />David Harris<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/remember-66/
