The Fourth

They gave their lives, charging through a red haze, of pain and loss. Slipping on the blood soaked ground, of their fallen brothers in arms. With tear stained, terror filled eyes, watched as their friend and brothers fell, never to rise again. Some ,mere children, stumbling through a hail of bullets, coughing on the fetid smoke of countless cannon blasts. Dressed in rags, huddled around small fires, the flames could never, ease the chill in their hearts. All of this they gave, so families could have pic-nics. Watch the night sky light up, in wonder at the myriad of colors. Sacrificed, so families may go to church, and bow their heads , to pray in freedom. On this,celebrated, special day in July.