Freedom

In their new uniforms, The young march off Not knowing who shall return. With a proud devotion, They brandish their flag Leaving loved ones to wonder and yearn. May we all be buried By all of our children Is an ancient tribal prayer. They're so easy to lose But so hard to forget; Such a burden for a parent to bear. Oh, the taste of victory Shall soon be forgotten; But, never that which was lost. For those rows of white headstones In peaceful green fields, Make it easy to tally the cost. America has survived all attempts to destroy Knowing the cruelty of war, And, we who remain Must help keep her free For those who can march no more!