Cost of Freedom
The night was cold,
But with bodies hot and roaring to go,
The skies black, filled with smoke and, lit with fire works,
But not the ones you want to see.
The 20 year old man writes to his love on a hard rock,
Telling her everything is alright and it’s over,
Now he can come home in peace.
30 years ago today, Jake sat on that bolder,
Witting a letter to a women that would become his wife.
Sipping his coffee, the clock strikes 8 am,
He knows its November 10, Th
The day of too many.
They had gone to bed for the night,
In steel bunkers, fires put out, and blankets over their bodies,
Guards right out side, so they can sleep all night without a fright.
Waking them all from dreaming in warm beds,
Was one more show, one more fight,
The enemy fireworks took many lives that night,
And within the presents of dawn,
Came the digging of many unmarked friends graves,
The friends that fought side by side for all those months,
Those same soldiers that will never make it home in peace.
Timer went off to get the cookies out of the oven,
Jake smiles, wipes the tears away from his eyes,
And says “these are for you Brad, you my best friend.
My war hero that didn’t come home in peace.
I am sorry your grave was one that was dug,
And for I bare the shovel.
One day we will walk side by side again.”
He knows the cost of freedom! Do you?
P.S.
thank you to all the men and women that made\make it so I can be free. thank you so much.
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Added by Poetry Lover
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