Dylan Charles

Rookie - 213 Points (Sai Kung, Hong Kong)

Brothers - Poem by Dylan Charles

Tender tears whisper secretly,
“My brother, I am sorry.”

The eagle cross and the lion red lie still in the sunlit sky,
Hands clamped shut, a peace that will last the day,
Only a day,

Black bread, biscuits and ham,
Wine, cognac and cigarettes,
“My brothers, we are sorry.”

The sound of trumpets, the dogs of war,
Left have they for another day,
For only a day.

Of laughter, of singing,
Of jokes and larks,
“Brother, I am sorry.”

Too soon, too young,
We sing one last song
A carol for our miseries, a carol for our dead,

Oh my brother, my brother,
Forgive me for my sins.

Topic(s) of this poem: regret, silence, sorrow, war

Poet's Notes about The Poem

The Great war was the first conflict in human history that engulfed the world, from the coasts of Easter China to the poppy fields of northern France and Belgium, nothing is more significant or iconic than when the common man joined together for a game of football, shook hands with their enemies and exchanged gifts on a frostbitten Christmas morning.

What strikes me as the most futile and tragic part is that, the war needn't have begun at all, men died over an offense they never gave, over a war that didn't matter.

Comments about Brothers by Dylan Charles

  • Fabrizio Frosini (10/25/2015 2:48:00 PM)

    '' What strikes me as the most futile and tragic part is that, the war needn't have begun at all''

    you're right, and 'the most futile and tragic part' of most of the wars is that no real reasons were there..

    thanks for sharing your interesting write, Dylan
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Poem Submitted: Sunday, October 25, 2015

Poem Edited: Wednesday, October 28, 2015

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