The Warrior - Poem by David Darbyshire
This warrior was very bold,
but his story, is still untold.
He now lies in the bottom of a grave,
to his lord he was the slave.
He had a very rugged life,
never got to know his wife.
For all his hard work, his yield,
a knife, a sword and a shield.
The scars and cuts,
the blood and guts.
Was not enough,
His life it took.
Now he was dead,
at a very young age.
So his story stops,
not another page.
At the side of his grave,
his young wife looks down.
Wonders what it was all for?
Some glory and a shinny crown.
The young lady walks away,
showing her dislike and dismay.
Hoping it will all end, this sorrow,
maybe not today but tomorrow.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye