Days of Past
Days of past, days of lore
Days we spent waging war
Battles won and battles lost
On to glory some have crossed
The heat, the rain, the cold, the pain
The constant pounding in my brain
I don’t know if I’ll make it home
Where as a boy I used to roam
Mother Mary, voice of grace
Mercy given, none too haste
Copyright © Scott Neely | Year Posted 2020
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