Poetry

THE DAY THAT TIME STOOD STILL

By 26th December 2007December 9th, 2019No Comments

The summer came in scented heat as every summer did
For two thousand years or more
But the lessons in the school-house and the harvest in the fields
Were to be the last, in nineteen forty four.
No more laughing children and no more drunken nights
No more Oradour-sur-Glane,
It was all wiped away on that bloody awful day
The day that the SS soldiers came.

The men with guns came calling and they rounded us all up
Took away our children and our wives
Marched us to a barn where they shot us down like dogs
So callously taking all our lives.
Then they marched the kids and mothers, singing to the church
Locked the doors and dealt with them the same
Hoping no one would survive to tell the tale
No one left to point the finger of blame.

All that was and all that is and all that will ever be
Stand silent for a new generation to see,
So it was and so it is and so it ever will
On the day that time stood still.

Now people come and stare at the town that died a death
A grim monument to the evils that men do
And although they swear to never let it happen again
They know that it’s always going to,
But for those who lost their lives it’s still nineteen forty four
And the guns still echo loud and clear
Their ghosts are still asking what the hell it was all for
And why it had to happen here.

Mark Vine

Author Mark Vine

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