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November Remembrances
A short poem to think of those who never worried about social media influence, but gave their lives so we might.
Leaves are turning as Autumn´s sleep lies with us in a silence, deep.
Our thoughts are tarnished, auburn, and faded from vibrant hue,
But that which curdles thought and turns love’s eyes to weep,
Is that this privilege was borne of tragedy — never before was so much owed to so few.
Today young minds twist, imperilled by ephemeral social standing,
Designer gear, likes, and viral reach are all their digital souls construe.
The fears are shallow, requiring no merit, below even reprimanding
For true youth has been bled — never before was so much owed to so few.
The mud slurps and sucks life from the soul, blood and rats abound,
Last gasps, grasping lost loves are uttered as life fades desperate to be true,
But guns and cries have fallen silent, lost souls departed, death is the only sound.
Today’s youth think to only monetise, affiliate — never before was so much owed to so few.
A hundred years ago scared hearts cowered in trenches, riddled with unknowing, alone.