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Of fallen comrades, before their prime,
these are the wounds, healed not with time
The haunting memories, of war's shameless fears
and the Brave Young Men Of Yesteryears

Sometimes I go out, all alone
to walk admist, the fields of stone
where engraved, I can find
the names of those, left behind

I stand there sometimes, in the rain
and pray these men, died not in vain
I let my pain flow out in tears
for these Brave Young men Of Yesteryears

I hear their voices, call from the grave
we're the sons of America, the home of the brave
we fought to keep our country free
we died to preserve your liberty

I search in vain, for some small truth
in the words of those comrads of my youth
dare...I question, these faithful peers
the Brave Young Men Of Yesteryears

For God and Country, it's said they died
still I can't help wonder, to how many were lied
when the greatest nation, since time began
ask,"waive your rights, and die like a man

Now, is it any wonder, that you find
America's,....Lady Justice blind
the cloth that's bound, about her eyes
still let's, her hear, the many lies

It covers not her patience ears
but only hides her shameful tears,
for the Brave Young Men Of Yesteryears.

Richard B.Sunday
copywritten 1990

Korean Veteran