I am the daughter of the father who lied
And of the mother who silently cried.
I am the sister of the son who died.

I am the pound of the beating heart
Shot, shelled, and blindly torn apart.
I am the creak on the bedroom floor
That your marching feet walk upon no more.

I am the youngest, though by powers beyond me
I am now older than you'll ever be.
I am the one who still lives with the pain,
Blessed with a freedom born of murderous gain.

I am the laughter on the front lawn,
Stolen away on that bright Summer's morn.
I am the joke that was shared in a glance,
Frozen in the eyes that saw nightmares in France.
I am the smile that played on your lips
That are now blue, from Death's stammering kiss.

I am the victory - we all remain free.
I am, and I am. Because you were, for me

I wrote this on remembrance day 2007. On that day, for the first time in my life, war suddenly felt so...real, I felt sadness I'd never felt from simply reading about the atrocities in a history text book
So this is from the point of view of a girl whose older brother died during World War 1. It was inspired from watching the drama "My Boy Jack" as well as the memorial services held in London.