November, November the month we recall,
The soldiers, the sailors, the airmen- them all.
Those ones, who returned, came back well and good,
The others that died in the spot they had stood.
The child who’s forgotten her father’s blue eyes,
The mother who doesn’t know why she still cries.
The father stood bravely and wore his sons pride,
On his heart like a sleeve, that hung down by his side.
Listen to their silence it gets louder each year,
We weep for their sorrow a November tear.
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