D Day
I asked my wife if she knew what day it was. "June 6th, Just another day I guess." Do you know what happened to the boys Drown and shot on Normandy's beaches All those years ago, You who value freedom? We didn't hoist a flag high, or stop in remembrance like we should. Down in the bottom of a landing craft, Doubtful of the outcome of invasion, A thousand young men Yield to orders and prepare to attack. I guess we forget what came before as we plan for our future. Drab cliffs and beaches await, Defended by an enemy strong And eager to repel our advances. Young American's died on this day in 1944. It was the anniversary of D Day, did you pause to remember on 6 June. Do not forget the men and boys who died Doing what their nation asked Across the seas in 1944 or Your American fighting men who answer the call today. I asked my wife if she knew what day it was. "June 6th, Just another day I guess."
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On The Shore
On the shore the flag stands
red, white, and blue
waving in a gentle breeze.
Alongside a Union Jack
and Tricolore she stands tall,
guarding rows of stones,
each commemorating
a young man or boy
who fell on this beach
still called Utah.
On the shore,
sixty-four years before,
boats and bullets and blood
combined in the briny foam.
Red blood,
white smoke,
blue skies as they fought.
Now she stands guard
over the sleeping soldiers
who fell on this beach
still called Utah.
On the shore she stands,
red, white, and blue banner
above a graveyard.
Gone are the souls
of boys who lie here,
and the many old men
who walked and waded
off the sands
carrying the burden
of the memories of brothers
who fell on this beach
still called Utah.
On the shores of America
she has stood,
in her red, white, and blue
finery for 333 years,
a proud symbol
of a fine country.
Now I ask you
why so many
are turning their backs
and shunning her
here at home.
It is as if they forgot
all who died in her name,
like those heroes,
who fell on this beach
still called Utah.
On the shore the flag stands
red, white, and blue
waving in a gentle breeze.
Alongside a Union Jack
and Tricolore she stands tall,
guarding rows of stones,
each commemorating
a young man or boy
who fell on this beach
still called Utah.
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All Those Crosses
All those white crosses stand in a row
on nameless hills in Europe,
in fields of France,
on beaches too.
All those white stones stand in a row
on the green lawns at Arlington
and 1000 more cemeteries.
Rows of names are chiseled
into that big black wall.
All those lives are gone.
All are heroes to someone.
All those white crosses stand in a row.
All those white crosses;
final resting places for our young men.
Strong and steadfast they stood.
All those white crosses stand in a row
showing they gave everything for us.
All those white crosses bear witness
to those we love but can't bring back.
Very few of the old soldiers are left now.
We can feel their sadness,
because they know
soon another generation
will be commemorated;
simple white crosses standing in a row.
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