Jack’s soldier toys kept in the room

In care of a brownish candy tin;

Abandoned, now lay on the grass.

Alas! The tin, the house, they’re gone.

Jack died on a sunny April day

Next March he would’ve turn eighteen.

That war was real, that fight was fierce.

This life was gone though victory came.

His name and life, and…

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There was before him

A path leading down towards

A welcoming bay