You Weren't Even There

You Weren’t Even There

by Billyyoutwo1

Do not dare

To form poetry of war

If you weren’t even there.

It’s like pinning a campaign medal

To an unblooded tunic

That has never shone in glory

Nor even, in reflected gore,

To show death’s feast.

It is not when death releases its rigid hold

And the jaws of those lying, hang cold.

It is when, with disbelief ,

They hear respect and platitudes,

And utterance of gratitude.

And bleeding hearts are shown bare

By those who weren’t even there.

And the pals are all gone now.

They marched in rank from the field

And looked upon their lost years.

No need for tears

As shed by those who weren’t even there.

Think on lads, as you march past Tommy.

And look right now and see those who sent him.

Now, look left.

Look up.

See the price that was paid.

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