This night comes with sombre rain
The skies know what is to come.
In the morn at day break
The tired souls of my comrades,
Following my whistle and order,
Will go over the wall.
And advance the plains to the enemy
Who will do just the same.
These men I lead are hardly that
They've known no love
Other than that of their mother.
Known no shame of a heavy drink,
Some have not even had their first.
And many, if not all,
Had never stepped foot outside of their home town
Before this ungodly war.
But we are told
We will be home for Christmas.
Yet these children
And myself I'm sure
Have seen our last already.
I hope only their resolve
Is strong enough
That they do not yet realise it themselves.
We strike the enemy at first light
Children themselves.
Many wishing
Just as I
That we could walk the other way.
-
Author:
Kenny O'Donnell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 31st, 2024 08:49
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Natalie Heisey
Offline)
Comments2
A message that could apply for any war. Nicely written.
Thank you
Beautiful 😍
Thank you for the read. I appreciate it.
Yw
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.