Our souls cry out when they say, “gone but not forgotten,”
Because we are forgotten by so many.
You accept the good life,
All without a thought, claiming it is your right.
The right to live and do as you will.
A special life, ah, 'tis that indeed.
A piece of metal forged into a design,
Tied with a ribbon, to wear on our chests,
Or sent home to our families was our reward.
We were grateful.
Tiny crosses dot the earth around the world.
Many stand in foreign soil,
Never to be seen by our families,
Some here at home in sacred ground.
Perhaps you think them pretty in their symmetrical rows,
Not one individually stands out.
Nay, they are more,
These emblems insure you the right to be individuals in all things.
Even to ignore our reasons for dying.
Take heed of us and the histories of the past.
Remember our country, our peoples and why we lived and died.
YOU —are the nation, make it great again, become proud.
Remember us so our souls no longer feel the need to cry out.
Michael Robert Patterson was born in Arlington and is the son of a former officer of the US Army. So it was no wonder that sooner or later his interests drew him to American history and especially to American military history. Many of his articles can be found on renowned portals like the New York Times, Washingtonpost or Wikipedia.
Reviewed by: Michael Howard