"Conner go play..."
No more stories today.
Of such a place that Conner never knew.
In a space and time that was ripped from childrens hands,
And marked for tragedy.

Something makes Conner think his granddad has seen more than any one man should.
Though time is long and tedious,
And wears on ancient minds,
Time does not forgive,
Nor does it forget.

His granddad never said much about those years inbetween.
But that far away look in his eye makes Conner think he never left.

That place...
Where most never got the chance to leave.
Little medals tell tales.
Of honor, glory, and bravery.
All they mean to the old man is that he was one of the very few left.

An homage of memories...
Of men who made that ground their eternal bed.
Husbands of widows.
Fathers who never got to say hello...
Sons who left too soon.
Brothers who never got to say goodbye...

Sometimes when it gets quiet,
They say you can hear old man McNealy cry,
But when you ask what's wrong.
All you get in return is that far away look in his eye.

"Go, be a child Conner..."
...For you and for me.