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About This Poem
The King's Shilling
From factories and fields they came
Men and boys from each neighbourhood
Giving their lives, in the king’s name
Filled with pride, in long queue’s they stood
Unknown to them to give their blood
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In foreign lands to free oppressed
In khaki coloured battle dress.
Enemies fighting tooth and nail
To be the victor they obsessed
In muddy fields where horrors hail!
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As winter comes and bones are chilled
with choking dust and heavy gun.
In rabbit warrens lots were killed.
Enemy shells dropped by the tonne
Ends the life of a mother’s son
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Deafening noise prevented sleep
As in their hands loved one’s they keep
Onto each other they did hold;
A shilling’s wage it was so cheap
For six months work as they were told
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As time went on and still at war
So many men were filled with shock
From sights of death and blood and gore
Unrecognised… a mental block
No time to heal and then take stock
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As trains arrived with coffins deep
From silent homes they came like sheep.
Too young or old to be enrolled.
Supporting mother’s as they weep
For long lost sons who were so bold.
© 29/8/2012
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