AND THE DRUMS ROLLED

One by one the names were called.
Engraved upon the wall.
Flowers laid against the stone.
Of soldiers not coming home.

The crying wall stained with tears.
Letters traced leaving fingerprint
markings behind.
A heroes medal laid against the
the stone.
Of soldiers not coming home.

And the drums rolled, and a flag
was folded.
Neatly it was pressed.
It was placed beside the flowers,
and a heroes medal against the
stone.
Of soldiers not coming home.

From the very young to the very
old.
From the beginning of the first
battle ever told.
We will always remember.
And the drums rolled.
Of soldiers not coming home.


written by: Paula aka Angel Of Love
October 12, 2003



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