June 22, 2010, 3:25 PM
To the sound of a drum they fall in line,To the sound of gunshots they fall in time.
The fear in their eyes never dwindle at night,
It stays all around them until the golden sun light.
We remember their stories,
We remember their lives,
But we never know their killers.
They fight in wars that old men start,
They fight enemies with out names,
No true reason to fight,
Except to preserve their own lives,
The freedom of others,
For their family.
Their lives pass by,
Glimpses of their past haunts them still,
Hoping and fighting to return to it.
Certain death around every corner,
Yet they still fight.
They know their are people that go against them,
Anti war,
Anti government,
And yet they still fight,
To allow those people to keep thinking how they want,
To let them live how they are.
Little appreciation,
But they are there,
Doing more for us than we can do for ourselves.
If not for them, where would we be?
Hate me for speaking my mind,
Putting light into what is happening around us,
But give them their dues,
For letting me speak,
And letting you hate me for it.
I am not one for our government,
Or one to believe in a higher power,
To be fair and honest,
But I am one for the ones who fight for us,
The ones who fight for the people,
Because they want to,
And they are.
But to the beat of a drum,
They fall in line,
And to the sound of gunshots,
They fall in time,
Not as individuals,
But as a whole...
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