They Marched That Sunday Morning

by Charles Franklin
(Atlanta, GA)

They Marched that Sunday Morning

They marched that Sunday morning,

when the weather is crisp, but not freezing

Their eyes shining and their graying hair styled

boots shined and clothes pressed

smiling all the while

I wonder what battles they have seen?

What worries must have crossed their minds

as they realized they may never return again?

They marched that Sunday morning

to an audience of a grand 100 people

no one knew their heroic deeds

their motives were really quite simple

but no one seemed to care

I wonder what battles they have seen?

What worries must have crossed their mind

as they realized they may never return again?

They marched that Sunday morning

knowing their own personal sacrifices

knowing that War changes a man

it gets inside and splices

everything he can be taught to believe I wonder what battles they have seen?

What worries must have crossed their mind

as they realized they may never return again?

I guess I will never truly know

what it feels to be such a man

who gambles with Death in such a way

the only thing I believe I can

offer is my memory

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