Poem in My Post: The Young Dead Soldiers Do Not Speak by Archibald MacLeish
In honor of Memorial Day, I have chosen this poem to remember the soldiers who fought and gave their life for my freedom and happiness. This poem is also in honor of my grandfather who fought in World War II, my stepfather who fought in Vietnam, my father who served in the National Guard for 30 years and to all those soldiers I do not know. I want you to know that I appreciate your sacrifice and I will remember you. Grandpa, I will be visiting you in my heart and at the cemetery and I will light a candle in your honor.
The Young Dead Soldiers Do Not Speak
Nevertheless, they are heard in the still houses:
who has not heard them?
They have a silence that speaks for them at night
and when the clock counts.
They say: We were young. We have died.
They say: We have done what we could
but until it is finished it is not done.
They say: We have given our lives but until it is finished
no one can know what our lives gave.
They say: Our deaths are not ours: they are yours,
they will mean what you make them.
They say: Whether our lives and our deaths were for
peace and a new hope or for nothing we cannot say,
it is you who must say this.
We leave you our deaths. Give them their meaning.
We were young, they say. We have died; remember us.