Crosses

 

Row upon row of plain white crosses

For all the men who died

Died to save us, who they never knew

Crosses marking empty graves

Their bodies never found

As we look upon the field

We ses the horror of the thousands who died

Forgetting that each of these men

Was someones father

Someones son

Someones brother

Someones husband

Someones friend

In remembering the tradgey

Of so many dying so young

We lose the individuality of each one

They were people too

Like your father

Your son

Your brother

Your husband

Your friend

Don’t forget them

Remember that in a hundred years time

It might be our graves that represent some tragic war

Or it might be our mutliated bodies

That lie uneasy in forgien soil

Longing for peace and rest

But forever lost

These are the lost souls.