"Like wild flowers; you must allow yourself to grow in all the places people thought you never would."

I Do Not Know Your Name

I do not know your name, but I know you died 
I do not know from where you came, but I know you died 

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Your uniform, branch of service, it matters not to me 
Whether Volunteer or Conscript, or how it came to be 
That politicians’ failures, or some power-mad ambition 
Brought you too soon to your death, in the name of any nation 

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You saw, you felt, you knew full well, as friend and foe were taken 
By bloody death, that your life too, was forfeit and forsaken 
Yet on you went and fought and died, in your close and private hell 
For Mate or Pal or Regiment and memories never to tell 

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It was for each other, through shot and shell, the madness you endured 
Side by side, through wound and pain, and comradeship assured 
No family ties, or bloodline link, could match that bond of friend 
Who shared the horror and kept on going, at last until the end 

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We cannot know, we were not there, it’s beyond our comprehension 
To know the toll that battle brings, of resolute intention 
To carry on, day by day, for all you loved and hoped for 
To live in peace a happy life, away from bloody war 

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For far too many, no long life ahead, free of struggle and pain and the gun 
And we must remember the price that was paid, by each and every one 
Regardless of views, opinions aside, no matter how each of us sees it 
They were there and I cannot forget, even though I did not live it 

I do not know your name, but I know you died 
I do not know from where you came, but I know you died. 

Kenny Martin 

“I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.”
- John Burroughs