Freedom

This is a poem that thanks our men and women overseas.

Freedom.

Blood has been spilled,
staining the ground,
deaths to numerous to count.
All because of this one simple word,
that means so much to us.

Our forefathers fought to obtain it
and we still fight to preserve it.
Men and Women
sent overseas,
families torn apart.
All because of this one simple word,
that means so much to us.

Do we truly understand,
the meaning of this word,
Or do we simply take it for granted?

How could we possibly understand,
the turmoil of,
watching your best friend die,
having blood on your hands,
Or the pain of dying yourself?

So for this sacrifice,
Past, Present, and Future,
Our men and women in uniform
We Thank You.