One hundred empty chairs
At one hundred not full tables
Tell the story of the war that isn't done.
So many aching hearts
So many unshed tears
But so many smiles still making Christmas fun.
One hundred unpulled crackers
One hundred still wrapped gifts
Tell the story of the soul whose gone ahead.
So many sleeping children,
So many weeping wives,
Still with so many words of love unsaid.
But more than thousand wounded
In a thousand beds
Sleep under medic watch at last tonight
And a myraid prayers are said
As a thousand hands are held
And aching bodies carry on their silent fight.
A hundred thousand bodies
In a hundred thousand beds
Speak with a twenty different tongues in desert sand,
And a hundred thousand families wait,
As emails zip back and forth,
To bring them home, alive and whole, as planned
A million parcels sent
Brighten up the bleakest time
As a hundred thousand families wait, watch and pray
But a hundred empty chairs
At a hundred not full tables
Will break a nations heart this Christmas Day
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