Colin F. Jones


We all pass away, soldiers or not,
Lost in our graves where our bodies all rot,
We are only remembered for a short time,
By our grandsons and nieces until they decline.
Politicians are remembered, those who find fame,
Presidents and Generals, Tarzan and Jane,
What’s all the fuss it is while we all live,
While we take what we want forgetting to give,
That we are remembered for the things that we do,
As part of the whole, the great human zoo.
What good is remembrance unless there’s a link,
With the mind that is using a memory to think,
And that is so personal it doesn’t matter to us?
So why does it matter? Why all the fuss?