War Poem by David Harris
War
Rating: ★5.0
Across a scorched and crimson earth,
tattered battle flags fly.
Men and boys in tangled shaped,
lay where they fell to die.
They tell the tale no one wants to know,
that battles are just a waste,
that never go into battle in haste.
The consequence is laid to rest,
in bones bleached bare.
Monday, August 27, 2007
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4/25/2024 6:01:50 PM # 1.0.0.1119
How many bleached bones still lay in Foreign fields, forgotten but the loss of another life, is it realy worth the price...10