Sunday, May 17, 2015
War - Ww1 - Returning Home Comments
Rating: ★5.0
When I answered the bugle's call I was just a lad
My father gave his nod so as an ANZAC I was glad
Through the battles my war was not weathered well
When I returned to home my face reflected the hell
...
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8/11/2025 5:08:01 PM # 1.0.0
So it is always like that. We go to war to kill people who we do not know. We come back full of memories of death and killing, a thing that would not be proud of. Nice piece of poem.