The Winding Road
With a sudden start he woke
Not a single word he spoke
His body ached as he knelt
Time again to go he felt
All remaining strength he drew
Their fate how long before he knew
Down the winding road he went
Where his men to fight he sent
So around sharp bends he crept
Over bomb craters he leapt
On the winding road he stayed
But painful progress he made
Bodies strewn afar he spied
For so many lost he cried
No one could survive he thought
Yet signals of hope he sought
Horrific scenes of war he saw
Guilt of his men's death he bore
Endless days until he slept
For broken families he wept
The futility of war
Cannon fodder are the poor
Copyright © Simon Rogerson | Year Posted 2021
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