The Sadness Of War Poem by Laughlan Orr

War time saddness
It's time for leaving,
The family is grieving,
So many have died,
Everyone has cried,
Climbing into the spitfire
The horizon looking dire
Taxiing onto the runway,
Come what may,
We are on the takeoff roll,
Being tossed about like a little rag doll,
With the Rolls Royce whining,
And the fuselage shining,
We have lift off,
Soon we are aloft,
Flying ever higher,
The altitude I desire,
Then down into battle,
The plane starts to rattle,
The sound of a gun,
I thought this was going to be fun,
The smell of fire,
This, I do not desire,
Smoke in the cockpit,
I am scared, I have to admit.
Seventy two years,
From those fears,
Because of their lives,
We will remember them