War Poem

[LMDawson]

Finished this today, hope everyone likes it.
Best Regards
Lisa


They came marching through the fog
To the beat of an internal pain
Through red fields of friend and foe
Never to be again

They spent the night on the bare dirt
With their trusted gal at hand
Dreaming of warm summer days
Lying on the beach in the sand

One by one they go
As the fog burns away
They pray and dream and hope
Of living into another day

A shot rings out over the field
Nowhere to hid on this plain of blood
The man next to you is now not there
The sorrow tries to hit like a flood

A whistle from metal lips
Can be heard over all
It hits and burrows deep
He stumbles and tries not to fall

The ground rises up to meet them
Some for the very last time
Others carried there by their brothers
And others hoping it won’t be the last time

Evening falls over the red field
Many more have been laid there
How many more will there be tomorrow
Many in hopes will say a prayer

They rest again on beds of dirt
Their trusty gals lying next to the men
Awaiting the next day of battle
To live on the field of blood again

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[Dan Wilson]

Nice, thanks for sharing that.

Dan

[John Sukey (Deceased)]

Please excuse me for adding this but It reminded me.
In Flanders Fields
Lt. Col John McCrae MD, Royal Canadian Army

In Flanders Fieldsa the poppies blow
between the crosses row on row
That mark our place, and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead, Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields

Take up our quarrel with the foe
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch, be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields

Seems nothing much changes

[LMDawson]

What a great poem. I like it.

Lisa