And once it was all over…

Those who did come home were changed forever. but too many never reached their home shores again. I like on Armistice Day to particularly remember those who never came home.


Here I will sit for all eternity

It’s cold…… ice cold,

Lichens cover it completely, it’s so old;

Letters and numbers carved into its face,

Lined up like soldiers, alone in this place.


I sit cross legged in front of one stone,

Until I realize, I sit here alone;

The grass beneath me is soft, cool damp moss,

As I gaze at the letters lying under the cross.


Staring at a name; in fact it’s my name

When suddenly I realize, that’s why I came

To look at the carvings cut deep in the stone,

And comprehend that name, that name is my own.


I sit here each day, not aware of the time,

But knowing the flowers by the graveside are mine.

Murdered and killed in the pouring rain,

Now I know how I was slain.


For I was taken ahead of my time,

Cut down by a gun at the height of my prime,

The trigger was pulled with no remorse,

I fought hard to live, but in the end died of course.


It was raining that day, the day that I died,

When men wept for comrades, and the women they cried,

The battlefield ran with rivers of blood,

And dead bodies piled in high in a human flood


It’s quiet now as I sit in front of this tombstone,

With a name carved upon it, a name that’s my own.

The graveyard’s now called a War Cemetery,

And here I will sit for all eternity.

LEST WE FORGET – he never came home


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