war poetry (Remove filter)
THE SPOILS OF WAR
And the troops go marching proudly by
as she wipes a tear from her weary eyes,
the one that she seeks, she will never again hold
for he died at his post; he was thirty years old.
The colours fly high on a cool autumn breeze
as man and boy march with well practiced ease,
so glad to be home after being so brave,
with flags overhead and not covering their graves.
She...
Monday 24th August 2015 11:59 pm
Recent Comments
Hélène on Psychiatric Hospital
44 minutes ago
Bethany Sallis on Bethany Sallis
2 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Psychiatric Hospital
2 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Saturday Night and Sunday Morning
2 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Bethany Sallis
3 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Graham Sherwood
4 hours ago
Manish Singh Rajput on You
4 hours ago
John Marks on FOG at SEA
5 hours ago
Holden Moncrieff on Is it?
6 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Graham Sherwood
8 hours ago