A friend, a father, an uncle, a son
Each loyal to the last.
Each believing they could stop
An enemy
Who each believed they could stop
an enemy
By following orders
Going over the top
Towards enemy gunfire
Which slugged into bodies,
Tearing and burning flesh
Til blood seeped unstoppable into
The quagmires of a foreign field.
Yet loyal to the last, to the cause of
The politicians who sent them.
Each poppy, each death
On either side,
A memory of
A life, a love;
Forever a grief.
Photos and poem copyright to Englepip ©
Englepip's World 