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Open Poetry #38
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My Lasdt Alloted and I'll do as a singing poem
| Open Poetry #38 |
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My Lasdt Alloted and I'll do as a singing poem |
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Bodger Senior Member
since 2005-06-12
Posts 1260Tolerance for a short time |
I'm sorry, I blew it Want'd to write a song And the song was right But for me I'll write the song After that Your own minds make up As I am only allowed three bits of someone else 'Do you read the adverts on this site' Wrung on a right arm Ethelright Dave Do you believe that a woman can have such a sound that without thought You know that sound Can you believe that there are woman and men Who never love again Can you believe a world apart Never seen nor torn apart Never met Nor Do you believe Do you believe End of this set of words And I am freelancing and brain just dictating fingers Dave It is that song Didn't mean to write this I wan't of words that make the whole world glad Reality gets in Dave Page Boy Soldier The drums were beating hard that day Barefoot I marched along Lost in the magic Dreaming to the song Never known a good day Nor meal or rags to fit Barefoot over cobbles Marching time with my stick Winter blowing Softly hard Feeling O so grand Patrolling through the yard Guarding my grand stand A few more years I join Wear a decent coat Fill up my belly Until it stops at my throat Smartly marching in the rain Rifle by my side Clean uniform for life To be so satisfied Cheers echoing softly Kisses flustering by Boys follow as we march The ladies By and bye We board the boat Flags are still In the empty chill My warm coat Seems to bring naught but ill My face is in the earth My feet are digging too The sky is flashing light My stomach flashes too No one else is left I hid within my tomb Digging all I could To see my mother’s womb No one came back But I hear marching feet I look at the steel at night Can someone beat retreat I wait for that death Dishonourable I know It doesn't matter how you die It just matters how you go I have no qualms for my coward's life I've lived it all I could I started at the bottom With the heroes right on top When the killing came They all felt they should stop So they sent us out poor souls To make it to the top With all their fancy words Our senses bemused Told us we were heroes We would get what we deserved Now we are all dead But they still breed anew They raise their glasses up to us And bloody heroes too. |
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| © Copyright 2006 Dave Page - Cirencester UK - All Rights Reserved | |||
Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
let them be the first to go then if they come back and can still sip without leaking through all the holes in their bodies well I'll tip my glass, too war stinks |
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
Far too often our brave heroes have their own blood in goblets instead of the wine that they deserve...  Linda  |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Dave "I wait for that death Dishonourable I know It doesn't matter how you die It just matters how you go" Wise words....and yes, war stinks!! |
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froggy Senior Member
since 2003-06-23
Posts 1893Michigan |
I agree with all those before me. War Stinks. :-) Until he extends the circle of his compassion to all living things, |
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