We weep today for those
whose names are carved on this wall,
for those whose bodies
tumble in distant waters,
for those who’ve never returned
from the dust of another country.
We weep too these old soldiers
standing here to the boom of the guns
and the haunted brass of bitter bugles.
They empty their tears for themselves,
for the lies they believed,
for the boys they once were
before they learned to kill.