Row By Row Poem by Riley Choma

Day by day, crosses and graves stones lay..
Row by row we all gather..
When they go we get sad then grow sadder...
When they all fall we no longer stand tall...
Why did I stay?
That should have been me, don't you see?
I might as well be a flea..
He was loved, he was a hero, some one who could never be a zero...
With each gun fire his honor seemed higher..
But theses consequences were oh so dier..
For his life was taken for us the plain and ordinary..
This we take for granted far too often...
Was his cause worthy of death?
Eyes filled with fear as he fell..
Knowing the flash of grenades and and screams of the innocent...
After each gun fire knowing this may be the last he would hear and see.... Row by row we still cease to see his faint and weary hidden plea...