11/11

 I always remember.

This morning, a different poem, though it could be applied to all those lost.  Today is crowded with ghosts, Mr Cohen, I wish you had not joined them. RIP.

The war was lost
The treaty signed
I was not caught
I crossed the line

I was not caught
Though many tried
I live among you
Well disguised

I had to leave
My life behind
I dug some graves
You'll never find

The story's told
With facts and lies
I have a name
But nevermind

Nevermind
Nevermind
The war was lost
The treaty signed

There's truth that lives
And truth that dies
I don't know which
So nevermind