Freedom by Helen Hunt Jackson
What freeman knoweth freedom? Never he
Whose father’s father through long lives have reigned
O’er kingdoms which mere heritage attained.
Though from his youth to age he roam as free
As winds, he dreams not freedom’s ecstacy.
But he whose birth was in a nation chained
For centuries; where every breath was drained
From breasts of slaves which knew not there could be
Such thing as freedom,–he beholds the light
Burst, dazzling; though the glory blind his sight
He knows the joy. Fools laugh because he reels
And weilds confusedly his infant will;
The wise man watching with a heart that feels
Says: “Cure for freedom’s harms is freedom still.”
What are you thankful for today?
I am thankful for freedom and for all the men and women who fought for our freedom.
How do we remember the men we’ve lost?
How can we tell them they’re still being missed?
That every day, especially on this crisp autumn day
Their memories still linger and they’re not forgotten
That what they’ve done are truly appreciated
Would wearing poppies and lighting candles do?
Lest we forget, lest we forget
Men of valour and courage going to war
Every generation, there are some reasons
Of why men waged wars against each other
We send them there, some still boys and girls
Not knowing whether they’d still come back
The experience they’ve got, we don’t really know
And when they come back, are they still whole?
Our heroes, our loved ones, their sacrifices
Lest we forget, lest we forget
And so we remember them
We appreciate what they’ve done
To our countries and to our freedom
Wars are ugly, wars are unfair and wars are ruthless
But then they are necessary sometimes
Let’s just hope that peace and understanding come
Lest we forget, lest we forget
(c) ladyleemanila 2016
ladyleemanila 
I liked this very much, and have seen a lot of your stuff so am returning the Follow favour. Welcome aboard. 🙂
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thanks and have a great weekend 🙂
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This line of your poem struck me in my mommy spot, “We send them there, some still boys and girls”. I saw the video of the graduating class of our Marine, when they graduated from boot camp. All I could think while David and I watched it was, “Babies…they’re babies!” Too young to be so far from home. Too young to be using guns….too young to die because people in charge can’t just talk things out like adults and fix the world’s problems without bloodshed. Those making the decisions for war are not the ones fighting and dying. They are tucked away safe in their offices, getting to hug their families good-night….It is our babies that are doing the fighting and the dying. And on the other side, it is the babies of some other mamas and daddies.
The average age of the American soldiers in Vietnam was 19…still teenagers. They never come back the same and those poor boys back then came home to such awful treatment. They were off doing what their leaders told them to do and what did they get when they returned…those that did return? Spat upon like they were garbage. I’ve seen the newspaper archives, page after page of obituaries of those that came home in a box from Vietnam, Korea, the World Wars. Here we are almost 75 years from the attack on Pearl Harbor and I can’t even read their obituaries without crying my eyes out….the eyes of a mama that knows one day it could be her sons’ names on those pages.
We can’t ever forget them, any of them, on either side. They are our babies, our future.
Have a blessed weekend, Lady Lee.
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thanks for your heartfelt thoughts, Suzanne 🙂 We remember them, their courage and their sacrifices, all of them, generation after generation, men and women, lest we forget, lest we forget ❤ a blessed weekend for you, too!
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