Our fathers died fighting
in places we never knew.
Far away places never imagined.
Places like Timbuktu.
So many faces died fighting
for things they didn’t do.
Our fathers died fighting
in places we never knew.
Too easy we forget
in dark graves they lie,
and for most, before their time.
Without glory, without fame,
in far off places
they died fighting.
Places we never knew.
A tribute not to war, but those who died fighting.
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Author: Don Iannone, D.Div.
Biography
Photographer, poet, teacher, complementary medicine provider, interfaith minister, and former economic developer. Holds a Doctorate in Divinity, Master of Divinity, Master of Mind-Body Medicine, and Bachelor of Arts degree in Anthropology. Clinical certifications in Reiki, guided meditation, life purpose coaching, and spiritual counseling. Author of 12 books, including two new books in the contemporary spirituality field. Learn more here.
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Contact Don Iannone by email: diannone@gmail.com
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Poetic Alchemist 
Gautami…thank you for your comment.
Sad but so true.
Thank you Catherine. Indeed so many are dying now. Good hearing from you.
And so many are still dying now….
Good poem. Thank you.
Thanks Floots, Dan, Pat, and Quasar. Remembering is a big part of life. And the parts are? Maybe forgetting at times.
“lest we forget”
thanks don
Ah….!!!!
And what the hell are we fighting for
said the Crusader to the Arab Moore
We fight to please our Masters
We fight for land or oil to bore
we follow orders nothing more
we need die for ideals no more
if it is not for us to question orders
and we die, we shall RIP evermore
Sometimes for good causes, others not so good. Excellent write Don!!