A poem

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Sing a cadence o men of battle,

And trudge the dirt flat.

Dust and sweat form a mud,

Under your helmet for a hat.

Men who were never there will have a lot to say,

As they watch from over sea.

But were the bullets flying nearer them

You’d hear them cry– Why me, Why me!

American Soldiers do the Devil’s work,

Should the critic really believe in Bad.

Better you’d been like them;

A good, good studious Lad.

Pain they say, can never be  real

As the stories they’ve long since read,

Scribed and published, glorious and true, in a New York Times ordeal!


2 thoughts on “A poem

    wordwand said:
    February 15, 2010 at 8:29 pm

    regards to all the soldiers o the world who are fighting for noble cause .
    thanks for this lovely poem.

    Amos Volante said:
    February 16, 2010 at 11:47 pm

    I was just asked by one of my kids what a bard was. I replied that you were a bard.

    Then I checked your blog and saw this!

    Yup. you’re a bard.

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