Tank

Like a fossil dinosaur it lies in mystic waiting
Once it was alive but now it is just haunting
Barrel droops where once it was a challenge to the air
All around an aspect of loss and quiet despair

Pennant lies in tatters aerial unused
No memory of what they are, or how they were used
Armour plate superfluous, on a deadened hulk
Shrunken in its death, it still displays its bulk

Once it had a dream, same as those within
Was it pride that took it down, was that such a sin
Kids that were the crew, stalwart strong and proud
Well they knew the battle cry and shouted it out loud

When they left Nebraska to fight in foreign lands
Never knew the reason and did not understand
Only knew their duty, and did their duty well
Never once complained, ‘bout going into hell

There these kids saw things, that kids should not see
Walked away from youth into hate and misery
Learnt the truth, that trust, can be a fatal flaw
We’ll never understand the horrors that they saw

Beyond all help forever, three of them have died
One of them, in agony, clinging onto life
Phosphorous grenades, burn right down to the bone
Will be many months before he can go home

Another crew is ready; tank will be repaired
Back home in Nebraska, wife weeps in despair
..
.

This is not a "Pretty' poem
But then again, war is not very pretty
..
.