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ANZAC poem 2
..they were sent by those
who sat upon pedestals so high
whose life was sheltered and dry
and saw the new days bright shining light
and they were the ones...
who kept their hands fresh and clean
by sending others to do their evil bidding
in a another's land, a land far from home
no...they were not the ones
who saw a sea ebb and flow...red
and watched as the tide washed up broken bodies
climbed the cliffs as hell rained down from above
who watched as the blood poured
from the lifeless bodies of their mates
no...they were not the ones
who waited for the dreaded whistle blow
the sound that could signal the end of your days
and trotted through the blood soaked mud
thinking your next step could be your last
no...they were not the ones
who saw summer be replace by winterr
lived in the muddy trenches of hell
wearing the wet and cold as a second skin
smelling death and fending off cat sized rats
saw the mundane days became a war within a war
no...they weren't the one's...
and...they were not the ones...
who woke screaming at night
drenched in sweat
reliving their journeys through hell
had the vacant stare
with a tremor tortured body
a young life taken by a hidden plague
no...they did not...
forged a new culture for a nation
be written into folklore
and be called
courageous
valiant
heroes
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remembering the ANZAC`s...lest we forget
Copyright ©
Markus Jay
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