I am called to arms
A thousand times a day
To wage this war;
And each time I must emerge
Victorious and able to say
That I can take some more;
For in this war
There can be no defeat
And no sabre rattle;
Only success countenanced
Defeat is unacceptable
Victory speech just prattle;
Triumph is silent
And not trumpeted
No medals to pin or braid;
Winning just means living
And facing another day
Pretending to be unafraid
Thank you Paul, for directing me to this poem.. For any combatant in this private battle it will have absolutely struck a chord of recognition I am sure. Great imagery, imaginative use of language. I enjoyed this very much..a well deserved 10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you so much for directing me here- an excellent workdealing with a sensitive subject- I am still coming to grips with the 'comment writing side of this site as I did comment earlier but it has not appeared so thought I ought to comment again to make sure that it appeared..well done!