A poem by A Coldwell my son (Remove filter)
One Hundred Years On
Here they Lye our Fatefull dead . Over the top and into Hell . These once green fields Ripped Apart and Family’s waited with broken hearts . All once pals like Flys they dropped. What is Humanity in all this Insanity . Not even a bird can sing them a song . News from wars not good . Let’s nip all wars in the bud . Bring back trust with an open Heart . Our forces will never Depart from keeping us s...
Friday 7th September 2018 6:41 pm
Recent Comments
R A Porter on Bungalow Dreaming
18 minutes ago
Tom Doolan on Bungalow Dreaming
23 minutes ago
Bethany Sallis on Final visit? ( fictional )
2 hours ago
John Coopey on Bungalow Dreaming
2 hours ago
John Coopey on Final visit? ( fictional )
2 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Tom Doolan
2 hours ago
R A Porter on Bungalow Dreaming
3 hours ago
Greg Freeman on Bungalow Dreaming
4 hours ago
prakhar dhama on Should This Night End?
4 hours ago
prakhar dhama on You
4 hours ago