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Rated: E · Poetry · Military · #2252902
Born of voices from the past. πŸ† First Place - Monthly Poetry Contest (Form: End Rhyme)
Carry On!

A chiseled stone, a worn, gray plot,
disrupts the weeds and marks the spot
where a forgotten soldier rests.
With his blood, this ground was blessed.

Though silent, I could almost hear
the sound of taps faintly but clear.
I wiped aside the dirt and grime
to read his words passed down through time:

β€œIt is with faith I made my stand
for each man’s freedom in this land.
I ask forgiveness on my soul.
I died to keep the Union whole.”

I felt the words reach out to me.
His sacrifice - my legacy -
gave me the freedoms I hold dear
and suddenly it became clear.

The faith he had, I thought was gone,
but his last words said β€œCarry On!
We’re branches from a single tree;
our strength lies in our unity.”

We each share a common goal:
from the many came a whole,
a nation where it’s understood
the meaning of β€œa common good.”

To that end, we take a vow
that echoes, in the here and now,
born of voices from the past
to carry on until our last.



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An entry for the June round of "Monthly Poetry ContestOpen in new Window.
Prompt: Grey Plot.
Form: End Rhyme AABB
Word Count: 186
Line Count: 28
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