The flags fly at half staff
On this downcast day,
I can hear the twenty one gun salute
Though not so far away.
I can see the tears upon their face,
As they walk with your soul in hand.
I can see the marching soldiers feet,
As they place you in the sand.
There were no sounds of laughter,
There were no signs of joy.
He thought he was a real man,
But he was just a boy.
He could not fight the battle,
That was placed before his eyes.
He could not pull the trigger,
When he heard the soldier sigh,
All his dreams were shattered,
When his world came to an end.
All his loved ones gathered,
His family and his friends.
By Suzanne Kelch