'Who will remember?'

I don't know you, just a name on stone,
surrounded by crosses yet buried alone.

Is your life forgotten? Your sacrifice lost?
Have you died in vain? Who will remember
freedom's cost?

People walk by without a glance at your grave.
Why should they care for those who for America
their lives they gave?

They're dead after all, what's the point to remember?
Graves are the same from March to December.

And, yet as they say the dead have no voice,
wont someone remember the man who made
a hero's choice?

No, the dead can not speak nor can they hear,
but won't someone remember those who fought
for our freedom so dear?

For once they were alive filled will spirit and life,
they fought, cried, and bled going through appalling
strife.
Our fallen hero's lay forgotten beneath the ground,
won't someone remember hoe our freedom was found?

Who will remember the pains of past, the blood and
tears both shed? The victories and loses both come and gone,
the living and the dead?

Won't someone take the time to hold crying mothers, remember
those who died, feel the pain of once were brothers?

To bow your head in remembrance to those who kept us fee.
to kiss the wooden crosses of those whose happiness will never
be.

We must remember for the price of freedom is so high,
in forgetting we would fail all the ones who had to die.

And in the wind above the graves this question will softly blow,
who will remember the ones who now and days ago?