The magical pastels of a sunrise.
The cacophonous songs of the birds.
The birth of a child, gender surprise,
The rhyming of poetic words.
The smell of just baked apple pie.
The touch, that first one of love.
The gleam of the one who first caught your eye.
The sad loved ones glancing above,
The hope, in vain, none of them died.
Some things they will never know,
In giving their lives many have cried.
Helping this grateful nation to grow.
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