Heroes

They came in many colors, men and women from farm and city On foreign soil they fought and died and the citizens cried out "what a pity" Their names now faded on crosses white, standing silent in neat little rows We honor them this day in song and word constructed in imperfect prose How do we repay them, the tens of thousands that laid down their lives? Remembrance one day a year, a picnic, a ball game and a host of high fives? Each day when we rise and begin a new day remember that life changes fast And we owe everything to the sacrifices made by the heroes of times past