A cry goes up, and out they go, the nation is at war
With no demands, they pack their bags, and slowly close the door
The wives they plead, and children cry, but daddy he must go
Wars been raged, freedom challenged, and all the soldiers know
The bullets fly, the briefly lull, this battles might is fierce
Creeping low, then sprints to move, but through his chest was pierced
The letters come, to love ones left, from daddy gone again
Mothers cry, confused about, how long till the battles end
A fear runs through, bodies shake, a telephones haunting ring
Terrified, by what it hides, what message it will bring
As soon as answered, the wife collapses, the children wondering why
The telephone said, I'm sorry ma'am, your husbands no longer alive
Now walking through, the garden of stone, it's a little more understood
The grave stones speak, though mild and meek, it echos through the woods
Your husband was brave, and welcome here, looked after he will be
Just like the rest, who gave their best, to life and liberty
At least you know, something small, you know where your loved one is lain
There are many here, the precious stones, who never knew a name
***Written in 02 working in Arlington
