The Rain Will Always Fall
by, Melissa R. Mendelson
The rain falls across the autumn leaves,
kissing their wounds gently with falling tears,
and a cold wind blows,
rustling through passages of Time,
history we think we know
and history forgotten.
And only Time knows how far we have fallen
like a hard rain pounding against war-torn paths,
and soldiers gone.
This world has changed over numerous seasons,
and Freedom is still a war to be fought.
But we seem to forget that.
More rain comes,
washing the history books away,
erasing faces of those
that echo the hero’s call,
but some never make their way home.
Only their memories keep Love warm.
We like to forget,
watch the rain fade into rays of sunshine,
and move forward into the unknown
without looking back,
but if we fail to remember,
we fail those that held our hopes and dreams,
our lives and futures
in their hands
as they gripped our enemies
and brought them down
to ring the bell of Freedom.
We have to remember.
Like a mighty storm,
they swept across the broken shores
and stormed the sands to define
not only themselves
for we would not be
who we are today,
if not for them,
so we must remember.
Remember the heroes that stood before us.
Remember the heroes that fought for this country.
Remember the heroes that gave their all,
knowing that they would never come home again,
and remember those that did.
Those that came home must not be forgotten.
We have a tendency to forget.
We are like a cold wind
rattling against the walls of today
with hopes of tomorrow
and forgets of yesterday,
but these soldiers, these heroes
that have returned home
have a name,
a name that we should know.
But even if we don’t,
they still stand beside us,
faint smiles upon their faces
for this world we have now
is because of them,
and we should be grateful.
They should be honored
and also remembered.
We should at least say,