Poetry

Sunday, 18 November 2012

By 19th November 2012December 9th, 2019No Comments

I never was a soldier
So have no tale to tell
Of cloying mud and seas of blood
and trenches into hell

I didn’t get the call up
So how am I to know
Of ghosts who stand on scarlet sand
where angels fear to go

I didn’t have the interest
So really don’t know why
The men who cried as brothers died
Beneath a leaden sky

The deserts are a distant place
So didn’t understand
The metal rain of searing pain
That ripped across the sand

The fight is in a stranger’s land
So where do I begin
To understand exploding land
That tears them limb from limb

So someone please explain to me
The sound of mothers cries
The deadly price of devils dice
when rolled to see who dies

Our country lies in freedom now
Our people live in peace
The statured men come home again
Hostilities will cease

So why should I remember
How could it ever be
That gallant dead, spilled poppy red
And gave their lives for me

I never was a soldier
And never went away
Like those who tried, and cried and died
And marched so I could stay

Kevin Ashman

Author Kevin Ashman

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