The Soil Looked Different Than Before
They had stepped up and been told to stop,
Whistles had blown them over the top.
Most were boys that had become men,
Most looked forward to going home again.
But some never made it back,
Some never survived that mad attack,
"Onwards lads!" the sarge had said,
"Keep going boys!" as the rush they led.
Some were stopped when death tapped their chests,
Others carried on to those deadly nests,
But those that survived the pointless war,
Said the soil looked different than before.
"It has a tint that cannot be erased,
cos I left my mate there without any grave."
Copyright © Alan Short | Year Posted 2009
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