I watched the flag pass by one day
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it,
and then, 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 pilot's planes shot down?
How many died at sea?
How many foxholes were soldier's graves?
No, freedom is not 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 covered a coffin
of a brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
of the others 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 is not free.
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