Sunday, May 29, 2016


Freedom Isn't Free

I watched the flag pass by one day
It fluttered in the breeze
A young Marine saluted it,
and then he stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform,
So young, so tall, so proud;
with hair cut square and eyes alert,
He'd stand out in any crowd.

I thought. How many men like him
Had fallen through the years?
How many died on foreign soil,
How many mothers' tears?
How many pilots' planes shot down?
How many foxholes were there
That served as soldiers graves?
No. Freedom is not Free.

I heard the sound of Taps one night
When everything was still;
I listened to the bugler play,
And felt a sudden chill;
I wondered just how many times
That Taps had meant "Amen"
When a flag had draped a coffin
Of a brother or a friend;
I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands.
With interrupted lives.

I thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea,
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No...Freedom is not Free!

By Kelly Strong
Copyright 1981

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