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The Little Men

Out of night and out of time,
Staring out through bloodshot eyes,
All the pain, cares and thoughts
Blasted out with noise.

Hands that work all day
Shut the mind down,
Follow out the light
And return with the sun.

Past light and love and feeling,
Standing on the brink,
A reflection of a shadow
Dangling in the wind.

A crumpled banner,
A broken knight,
A victim of war
Lost forever to the fight.

All they are is memory,
Carved into the bones,
All who still remember
Are the windswept stones.

This is where we stand,
This is where we sing,
This is where we remember,
This is all for you.

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Rudyard Kipling

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