Stand by the graves, those lost souls across the sea. Row upon row, the price tag of the free.
Stand in the lines as if you were at war. Stone, cold and silent. We have forgotten.What was it for?
Look to the skies, heavy leaden clouds of rain. Not feeling or seeing, was it really worth the pain?
Watch as we walk and read out your old lost names. Not knowing the story. who were you Private James?
Feel the breeze scatter the fading petals from your grave. We will never know you, or the ones you fought to save.
As your bones turn to dust and your memory dulls from view, your sacrifice is sliding away from the ones who knew.
Stand by the graves and read them one by one. Each name hides a soldier, a father and a son.
See them lying in their lines just as they fell in war. They never made it home again, no footsteps at the door.
So stand by the graves, and feel their soulful cry. They paid for our future without a last goodbye.
I promise I'll remember and think of you Private James. Just one man in an ocean of long forgotten names. Jan Millward©