There are many stories not told,

pasts that will unfold.

A loving, a sad, a true story,

of those who fought for thier glory.

Leave a map for tomorrow,

to find the treasure of the past. 

Let flowers grow on the dead,

planted by the living. 

Dont let their story die with them,

everyone deserves a chance to be remembered. 


This poem is about: 
My country


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