They are men who are still honorable
Not by birth, nor family, but are not
commendable
Nor seen for their travails, they show
that values are memorable
For by purpose, they were conceived o
show men as valuable
They are still men not yet honoured
Or spared to understand the depth of
their unrewarded sacrifice
A generation washed by unshared pains
They live and die not making the
headlines, but where honourable
There are soldiers who have never tasted
war
But sing war songs than their
compatriots in the bar
For in it is profit in the stores, while
the fallen fall with the gar
They are more honours to the death, than we living here with sigh
For this honour was not heaped, they were scattered
Honoured men are fewer than those that
are battered
Some die to this heartbreak...shattered
Devastated because what men should
honour...they guttered!
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