Men Do Battle Shed A Little Blood In Brotherhood Poem by Mark Heathcote

Onwards, onwards always looking forwards
From left of field, I saw you lose your crown
There momentarily get taken to the stockades
They beat you kicked you royally, like a clown.

Baying blood only momentarily you relapsed
But never could you fall lose your faith to wolves
And its then perhaps an angel's wing procures
To protect you us all and even-up the scores.

Onwards, onwards always looking forwards
Men do battle shed a little blood in brotherhood
Coz chivalry isn't dead they take a willing maiden
And all her dreams are for a short time procured.

But some baying tax man wants to see them hung
Hung, drawn and quartered to feed his own store
It wasn't long before they didn't even have straw,
And bedded down outside the Blackhorse, benumb.

Onwards, onwards always looking forwards
But never could they fall lose their faith to wolves
And its then perhaps an angel's wing procures
To protect them us all and even-up the scores.