He stands slightly askew
with gnarled hand at salute.
As his flag is lowered
before the sun hides away.

Walking far no longer
the damage done years past.
In the back by a cong's
A k fortyseven.

Comrades living fewer
with every passing year.
It has always been thus
war done men forgotten.

We honor them rarely
soley one day each year.
Far to little for those
who gave so much freely.

Stand up show them you care
these are our true heros.
On foriegn war torn shores
they still guard our freedom.