A Silver Framed Photograph

A Silver Framed Photograph

 

I see your face almost every day

But I know you have passed away

I ponder at our similarities in life

But you were killed at twenty in strife

On a street in Belgium your life ended

But here I live a life open ended

You sacrificed everything for our nation

All we suffer from is nervous tension

You left these shores aged nineteen

And since then never again to be seen

Your name is chiselled on a cenotaph

A name with no real autograph

Your family still remember you

Because to us you remain ever real and true

◄ Infection

Homely Love ►

Comments

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Martin Elder

Fri 20th Mar 2020 21:57

This is a wonderful description of those fallen who we so longer overlook.
Nice one

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M.C. Newberry

Thu 19th Mar 2020 12:12

Lines that cross the boundaries of emotion in their depiction of
cruel loss.
We are always alive when we are in the thoughts of someone else.

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poemagraphic

Wed 18th Mar 2020 21:02

This is beautiful Keith it brings tears to my eyes.

It rekindles memories of times past, of lives lost in an instant blast.

Poetry is like our memories way of saying what we can not say to our departed friends, loved ones and comrades.

Thank you
Po

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