Book of Poems

So They Were Shot

So they were shot and bled,

until the rivers ran red,

with the blood they shed,

for their fellows and their land.

Shots rang out,

blasting over their heads,

bending over backwards.

so they would finally lie.

Among the bones of their brethren,

staying softly there,

in their forever peace.

And now they sleep,

while we stand free,

fight and retreat,

shoot and bleed.