The Thanks Of A Grateful Nation Poem by Bobby Mitchum

The Flag in the Breeze
how proudly It waves,
over the Tombstones
and the Silent Graves.
In the distance a Bugle
sadly sounds Taps,
and a muffled Drum beats
Rappitty Rap Rap.
A Flag is folded
by White Gloved Hands
for Our Hero who Died,
in a distant foreign land.
A Mother sits sadly
Eyes filled with tears
remembering Her Son
in His Younger Years.
A Wife is weeping Silently
Her Heart Filled with Pain,
knowing that her husband
will not come home again
A Young Son asks His Mother
is Daddy in Heaven now?
She tries to answer
but she don't know how.
But rest at ease My Hero
for this is your Salvation,
You have earned the Thanks
of a Grateful Nation.