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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1699589
A father making peace with his son who was a soldier and is buried in arlington.
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The gardenias are in bloom
A scent that gently rides the breeze
Deep breaths steal the Fragrance
On my stroll through hero lane

Down along rows of stones
Lies a man whose image is still alive
There was a time when I was your hero
Days of past I made you cry

Trickling down, cold misty rain is coloring the stones
The amber sky glows
Last rays of light crest the markers
Red shines from the backside

An ironic color shared with those in this garden
The idleness here is deafening
A chill now has crept into my coat
I must once again walk away

Not from these stones of red
I can never truly leave
But, I must go for tonight
For now, I will repeat this pathetic dance

My own two step with death awaits me
If ever you are watching me
You certainly can know that you still live in my life
A wonderful man and a son to a proud father

Enjoy the heavens
You deserve it
Remember something for me son
You're my hero now



                                    To honor those who served, and their loved ones. You will never be forgotten.

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