If You Can Hear Me Mama. I still find myself reaching for your voice in the spaces where you used to be. Every quiet morning feels a little colder without your warmth beside me. It's strange how a love so steady can echo long after it's gone. Like a lullaby I still remember, even when the voices moved on. There were thank you's left unspoken, think
Forgotten. Gone but not forgotten. Battlefield Cross. The high cost of freedom. We forever lock their names in our hearts by remembering their sacrifice.
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