Freedom Isn't Free

With the fourth of July soon approaching, I wanted to post this poem which probably many of you have heard before. It's a good reminder of the true cost of freedom. To God be the glory that in America, we are still free to worship Him. And may He bless our troops.

I watched the flag
Pass by one day,
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine Saluted it,
And then he stood at ease..

I looked at
Him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud,
With hair cut square
And eyes alert
He'd stand out in any crowd.

I thought how many men
Like him
Had fallen through the years.
How many died on foreign
Soil
How many mothers' tears?

How many pilots' planes
Shot down?
How many died at sea
How many foxholes were soldiers'
Graves ?
No, freedom isn't free

I heard the sound of Taps
One night,
When everything was still,
I listened to the
Bugler
Play And felt a sudden chill.

I wondered just how many times
That Taps had meant 'Amen,'
When a flag had draped a
Coffin.
Of a brother or a friend.

I thought of all the Children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and
Husbands
With interrupted lives.

I Thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington .
No, freedom isn't free.