Carried Legacies

In the surplus store, dust hangs in the air,

a cold metal tag, silent and bare.

Etched with a story I’ve only half heard,

someone’s sacrifice, in a world that was blurred.

I hold it in palm, the weight heavy still,

a legacy carried, both hollow and filled.

Tarnished yet sturdy, it sings in my grasp,

tales of courage, the silence they clasp.