No More

No More (ode to the unknown boys of the First World War) Written by Steve Cooke

No more will he look into the eyes of his Mother,
No more will he see his Brothers smile,
No more will he feel love.
No more will he fish, and climb the trees of England
Or marvel at the voice of the nightingale.

For he is Sixteen and a Man,
He has done is duty by his Country,
Taken the shrapnel, which exploded over him
Like a Bright light sent from an avenging God.

He sees the dark approaching
But he can take it, for he is an Englishman
No more will he hear the whistle to advance
No more the frost and Snow
No more the fear of being killed
For I am no More
Remember me Mother.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

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The Drunken Poet Avatar
April 17, 2012 at 5:53 AM
Wow.I awestruck, by this touching write.Well enjoyed .
Rowberry Avatar
September 14, 2011 at 12:25 AM
amazing write! This inspired me to write a war poem. you should check it out, its called "The big oak tree" after all, without yours, i would not have made this.
Baity Avatar
August 6, 2011 at 7:12 AM
wow..this is really powerful Steven. I enjoyed the read...Thanks
It Is Rife With Ambiguity Avatar
August 3, 2011 at 9:31 AM
Splendid work. A wonderful and passionately vocal tribute to those who needed their voice to be heard!
Wesley Avatar
July 25, 2011 at 4:06 PM
So sad, war is a crime that takes some of the best. Your poem is filled with the evocative sadness that the emptiness of war gives. .......My poem "What Is Left" was written for the situation in Canada but I guess it isn't different in any of the western world's nations.
Dufresne Avatar
July 25, 2011 at 9:07 AM
powerful poetry Steven. Excellent. A hearty welcome to the soup!
A   Avatar
July 20, 2011 at 8:07 PM
wow! well expressed... enjoyed your poem,, have yourself a wonderful and blessed day,..p.d.
Brown Avatar
July 20, 2011 at 6:59 AM
I have read your poetry today and in my mind it is an interesting and excellent piece Steven. I will return again soon to read more of your writings. Love, Carol
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