Monday, June 30, 2014

Arlington Poem

A lone tear escapes my eye and runs down my cheek,
As I stare at a field of a million stones, 
In line,
At attention, 
Every stone is a man,
Who fought and died, 
In an effort to preserve  my freedom,
My safety,
My right to pursue my own destiny,
And I feel lucky.
 
Max 

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