It’s not just poppies on a coat,
Or stories in a history note.
It’s not just silence at eleven—
It’s the living, breathing proof of heaven.
It’s boots that marched through foreign lands,
It’s weary eyes and calloused hands.
It’s sacrifice, both near and far—
Not a slogan, not a PR star.
November 11th is not some trend,
It doesn’t shift, it doesn’t bend.
It’s Veterans Day, not some charade,
Not just a nod to one war made.
World War One, we honor still—
But that’s not all who climbed the hill.
From Normandy to Kandahar,
From deserts wide to lands bizarre,
The oath was sworn, the price was paid—
In peace or war, they never swayed.
So Mr. Trump, or anyone—
This day is not for partisan fun.
You cannot steal, you can’t reframe
The weight behind Veterans Day’s name.
We stand for all who wore the boots,
Not just for one war’s solemn roots.
And if you try to twist that truth,
You’ll hear from us—old strength, uncouth.
Because we know what duty means,
What lies behind the war-time scenes.
And we won't let the meaning stray—
November 11th is Veterans Day.
No comments:
Post a Comment