Freedom Isn't Free

We must never forget who Gets the credit for the freedoms we have, of which we should be Eternally grateful.

I watched the flag

Pass by one day,

It fluttered in the breeze.

A young Marine

Saluted it,

And then he stood at ease.

I looked at

Him in uniform

So young, so tall, so proud,

With hair cut square

And eyes alert

He'd stand out in any crowd.

I thought how many men

Like him

Had fallen through the years.

How many died on foreign

Soil

How many mothers' tears?

How many pilots' planes

Shot down?

How many died at sea

How many foxholes were soldiers'

Graves ? No, freedom isn't free.

I heard the sound of Taps

One night,

When everything was still,

I listened to the bugler

Play

And felt a sudden chill.

I wondered just how many times

That Taps had meant 'Amen,'

When a flag had draped a Coffin.

Of a brother or a friend.

I thought of all the

Children,

Of the mothers and the wives,

Of fathers, sons and

Husbands With interrupted lives.

Thought about a graveyard

At the bottom of the sea

Of unmarked graves in

Arlington .

No, freedom isn't free .