The blood will dry, the memories will fade.
As our history, our lives continue to age.
The photos will yellow, the children will forget.
‘Til war comes to get, the ones they never met.
Though we commemorate those we have lost,
It seems the world has forgotten war’s deadly plot.
It invites, it advertises to those who slave.
It forgets, it dismisses the walk to the grave.
The noise, the silence, the endless pain.
The glory, the adventure, the endless gain!
So they go on their march of ignorance and pride.
They watch the trample of all in their stride.
For who else would go for the ride?
but the children who took glory’s side.
YOU ARE READING
Life's story
PoesíaA book of poems about the real world and everywhere in between! Remember, do not judge a book by it's cover... or it's description. Judge by what you read... A/N: Dear reader, All poems in this book were written by me and are therefore, mine! Please...
