Doc Biskind


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Best Poem of Doc Biskind

Prelude Of War

They trudged up the hollow hill, where bodies laid in sombre still
Tis' not bleesed saving ground, where all there be is dying sound
Be at top where sandbags littered, soldiers faces so embittered
That they did lose a fierce old fight, with all they had of will and might

Their comrades now looked in awe, silent in what they had might have saw
If they been in that foolish attack, would they lying there like battered old sacks
Or would they have fought in gallant decor, or question why and what for
Rifles propped in file and rank, no officer to give them thanks

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