You accept the good life, All without a thought, claiming it is your right. The right to live and do as you will. A special life, ah, 'tis that indeed. A piece of metal forged into a design, Tied with a ribbon, to wear on our chests, Or sent home to our families was our reward. We were grateful.
Tiny crosses dot the earth around the world.
Some here at home in sacred ground. Perhaps you think them pretty in their symmetrical rows, Not one individually stands out. Nay, they are more, These emblems insure you the right to be individuals in all things. Even to ignore our reasons for dying. Take heed of us and the histories of the past.