Standing There

This poem was inspired by a visit to a WW2 cemetery in England with my family... It's probably my oldest poem that I have on record, since I started it about 6th grade (I think?  Maybe 4th or 5th, it's hard to remember.).  It's undergone several revisions since then, but  the heart of the poem has remained the same.  I wish that I could post the pictures I took that day here, but alas, they predate the digital camera.

Dedicated to the soldiers who never came home & the kids who've never been told

Standing there,
Looking out across fields of white crosses:
Soldiers buried
In soil so far from home.

What were we doing? What were we thinking?
Sending these boys to die...
Some still just children, others from college
Yet they all gave their lives.

Standing there,
Guns in their hands, grim looks on their faces
Standing and Fighting,
Dying and Crying all so that we may be free.

So what are we doing? What are we thinking?
Not honoring their sacrifice...
Children not knowing, teachers not showing
How they all gave their lives
Standing there.