"...without considering the reasons for why we are being nice."
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.
How many pilots' plane shot down?
How many died at sea?
How many foxholes were soldiers graves?
No, Freedom is not 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 covered 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
I thought about a graveyard
at the bottom of the sea,
of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No, Freedom is not Free.
