the burial for the brave,
and the men that had been forced into murderers.
marks the spot where they had been left alone.
Soldiers that had been left slain,
dying in unimaginable pain;
shrapnel piercing their skin,
bullets sinking in
to abused flesh,
marred by barbed mesh.
Their spilt blood,
bleeding into swamping mud,
sinking into the ground,
their bodies piled in a mound,
of rotting limbs;
finally freed of mans’ sins.
Poppies in garlands,
remembrance from their homelands.
pictures of the honorables.
in the landscape that had been scarred
from their guns and shells,
where they had all been in hell.
This is their legacy.
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Comments about this poem (Legacy by Anna Oleary )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(13 February 1879 - 2 March 1949)
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