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Counts are made first Of those who died: Their loss is final And their memory Should be kept. How often are those Passed over whose Bodies are no longer whole Or which have lodged in them Splinters and fragments meant To give greatest hurt. How often are those Forgotten whose Families were destroyed And their loved ones Taken from them. These injuries foster Memory in later life, And burden a present Which could be lived out In grateful routine. They live in the shadow Of bygone conflicts With no stone standing To remind others of Their broken lives. |
