Poems of the Era 6
The Common Man
The war, the fear, the lust for power, As the sun rises over the black night sky, the midnight white stars disappear. The common man rises, out of thy bed. This man though, ready for another day. A day of hardship, of blood, mud and grit. Watching hid comrades' fall before him. Wondering if he would make it through the day. Every day, the black fear in his heart growing the pain. His family, his wife and children, he fought for them, Knowing if he failed they would die, "Tis this man, all the common men, they fought, still fight, they died, still die to keep you safe. Then the warmth, the golden warmth his heart feels as thy common man receives the parcel, The parcel that contains the small letter from his family. These, they drive him to keep going. But with this happy warmth, comes red hot anger, why can't he be with his family. This anger, it drives him, fuels him to fight, to kill and to protect. He promised, to himself and his family to end this war. To make his and their lives filled with joy, happiness and warmth. This common man saved you! So remember that. Lest we forget The ANZACs Australian and New Zealand Army Corps They fought for us, Therefore we remember them as heroes. Jaida Berridge My Thoughts on Remembrance Day
On the eleventh day of the eleventh month We pause at the eleventh hour Some of us stop to pray For soldiers who died or went missing along the way. Lest we forget the wars that were fought To give us freedom So many were shot. I will always remember My great Grandpa who died Rest in peace dear Grandpa You are always on my mind. I would love to join the military someday To give back to my country And to make my world a better place. Rest in peace all you soldiers Who gave up your lives For people like me It's a shame that you died. Cody Lynch, © 2007 |
ANZAC Cove
There's a lonely stretch of hillocks: There's a beach asleep and drear: There's a battered broken fort beside the sea. There are sunken trample graves: And a little rotting pier: And winding paths that wind unceasingly. There's a torn and silent valley: There's a tiny rivulet. With some blood upon the stones beside its mouth. There are lines of buried bones: There's an unpaid waiting debt: There's a sound of gentle sobbing in the 'south Leon Gellert 10th Bn AIF I went to see the soldiers
I went to see the soldiers, row on row on row, And wondered about each so still, their badges all on show. What brought them here, what life before Was like for each of them? What made them angry, laugh, or cry, These soldiers, boys and men. Some so young, some older still, a bond more close than brothers These men have earned and shared a love, that's not like any others They trained as one, they fought as one They shared their last together That bond endures, that love is true And will be, now and ever. I could not know, how could I guess, what choices each had made, Of how they came to soldiering, what part each one had played? But here they are and here they'll stay, Each one silent and in place, Their headstones line up row on row They guard this hallowed place. Kenny Martin |