FREEDOM ISN'T FREE

This is one of those poems that gets circulated around the internet; I have seen it before, but it came to me again in an e-mail. I decided to post it for those who may have not seen it. And, its worthy to read again, for those who have read it.

I don't know who the author is; if I did, I would certainly post it to give them just credit.


THE SOLDIER

I watched the flag pass by one day,
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Soldier 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 and women
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, sister or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers, daughters and wives,
Of the fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.

I thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No, freedom isn't free.

Enjoy Your Freedom & God Bless Our Troops