They will not return
To hug their Moms
Dads Wives Husbands
Children

They Stand to Greet
the single file
procession

She hugs,
shakes each hand
of those present for
the solemn
parade that streams
past.

the void made
by the impact
of this mortar
Round of War
has not yet been
realized.

In all the pomp
twenty one rounds
Sal-lute

         p
     a
T           s

This      
              Soldier is laid to rest.

War is hell
RiP
ty 4 ur
Sacrifice