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Click hereIn Solid Rows The Gravestones Stand
Their March Is Stark Across The Land,
Each One A Mothers Bitter Blow
Grown From Greed Politicians Sow,
A Wind Of Hate Righteous Fanned.
Always The Youngest To Command
And Lead Across The Bloody Strand,
Meets Just Like Him The Enemy Foe
In Solid Rows.
Throughout The History At Hand
No Lessons Learnt, No Death Is Grand,
These Wasted Lives Will Never Grow
To Manhood Underneath The Mow.
Grassed Over See The Gravestones Stand.
In Solid Rows.
Poetry Survivor
Rondeau
Having every word starting in caps is odd, maybe the caps are "Solid Rows Of Gravestones Standing"
For anyone reading this I didn't submit it with every word starting with a capital letter blame the powers that be!
with the sentiments so ably expressed. Your poems are becoming thrillingly good.
OH MY FRICKEN GODDESS! This gave me chills and made me want to cry for my uncle in law who died so young and my great uncle who nearly starved to death in Japanese prisoner of war camps. Your work has been steadily improving as you tap into more personal memories. Keep going this way.