Graves

Nine Dead Trees Five Worn Graves Red, White, and Blue Mark what they Gave Only one date Still able to be read Nineteen forty-three On the Day of the Dead What a funny irony Sick and Cruel Fate To be split from your Family By a war Drawn By Hate What a Cruel World To be rained on from Hell To believe in a new Day To the Moment he Fell and what of the Other Cold Stones in the Mist What had they done What Lives had they Missed What Little Girl's birthday Or wedding or other What did they miss Getting to meet their baby brother They too must be heroes Though their graves are too worn They too give me freedom These with Roses I Adorn Nine dead Trees Five worn graves Red, White, and Blue Mark what they gave