© Copyright by Bob Price
 

I knelt at the wall

I caressed its face,

A tear my cheek did moisten.

I saw the names,

Oh Lord, so many;

My memories did hasten.

Some I knew.

A young man, then-

They as young as well;

But I have aged,

And though have I-

They are young men still;

They will be young forever:

Trapped in the warp

Of time stood still,

The time of their great endeavor.

‘neath their nations’ glorious flag

Were they carried lifeless home-

To grace her fields for all of time

‘neath heroes simple stones.

Nor sons nor daughters

Would they love and guide

Nor silver-crowned queen

Would cherish-

But it was for each

And for all of these

That those young men

Did perish.

None to death did readily go,

For much of life yet lay ahead-

And men with youth’s exuberant glow

Do not easily join the dead.

And many long miles

Away from home;

Sweethearts, fam’ly,

Perhaps a wife-

Each of those

And all as well;

Those were they

That gave them life.

And it was for each

And for all of those,

That those young men

Did give their life.

As I walk upon

This hallowed ground,

This land that I call home-

I think of all

Who went through hell,

Who bought this land,

With crimson pools

And shattered bones.

As I gaze upon that glorious flag,

‘tis their mem’ries and deeds

I cherish-

For it was for me

And it was for thee,

That those young men

Did perish.