DEDICATION TO MY FATHER

JOHN M. PROCHAK AND ALL POW'S

Flowers are symbols of beauty sublime
Moments of love pressed in pages of time.
The daisy however so simple and pure
Reminds us of hardships men had to endure.
It's statement is merely that "daisies" won't tell,
Neither did the soldiers who lived through the hell.
Name, rank and number was all they would give,
In silence they'd suffer, in anguish they'd live.
Month after month turned to year after year
Of bitter imprisonment of pain and fear.
And when it was over soldiers came home to stay,
People took it for granted that they were okay.
Now they were safe and their wounds could be tended
But the pain in their souls can never be mended.
Memories of horrors that torment the mind
Leave scars on a man of a different kind.
How quickly forgotten are prisoners of war,
Once peace is achieved no one cares anymore.
Please remember the daisy and think of the men
who suffer today for what happened back then.

                                       by Cathy Evanovitz

 

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