Janet Mary Zylstra

Rookie - 316 Points (1963 / London, England)

The Last Of The Y Brigade - Poem by Janet Mary Zylstra

We came to fight a war, to liberate a poor
Nation from the bondage
Of its despot.
We came with tank and gun; we thought that we had won
The freedom of a land.
Instead, we died.
They drove us down in hordes, scythed us with knives and swords,
Forced us upon our knees
To beg for life.
We were but left in ten: all brave and stalwart men.
They felled us, one by one,
Like wasted trees.
Our cries were loud and long; our will to live was strong.
Our captors mocked our fears
As captors do.
Now, on my own I stand, with none to hold my hand.
I'll be the last to fall.
I am alone

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Read poems about / on: freedom, war, alone, fear, tree



Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 1, 2005



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