Carved into God’s own earth, the black end scar that will not heal.
Adrift, a soldier, in faded ‘form, pauses;
reflecting an honor honed in his brothers’ black blood.
Their names etched before him.
Bombs silent for an age, rain down on this soldier’s dreams.
An unwelcome war, an ungrateful nation.
Grandchildren beside him, the yellow rose of peace extended.
Burned, he cannot enjoy its sweet scent.
His wounds for freedom, caustic and taught,
camouflaged by society’s canvas, do not heal.
Bent and worn, the black scar pierces God’s own men,
Forever Defenders of our nation’s freedom.
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