When old ideals gave way to soldiers’ pranks,

Though upright heroes stood in front of tanks,

There seemed to be no pathway to escape

And make a better life in better shape.

Our friends all pose with elegance and drape

Their ghost-like confidence before the ranks,

While we hang back for the crumbs of pity

Thrown with disdain by a subcommittee.

◄ Spread

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Stephen Gospage

Thu 3rd Dec 2020 17:19

Thanks as always for the generous comments. The poem was written a few months ago and has undergone several revisions since. Glad you enjoyed it, Paul, Brian, Stephen and Hugh.

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Stephen Atkinson

Wed 2nd Dec 2020 18:43

Superb, as always fellow Stephen.

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Brian Maryon

Wed 2nd Dec 2020 18:00

Love it, especially the last two lines Stephen.

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Paul Sayer

Wed 2nd Dec 2020 17:10

OMG Stephen, This is a bloody masterstroke of the pen.

This is I doubt 'just' a random poem.

A very insightful piece of prose.

Well captured.

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