LOST IN THE WAR

poem by: Darryl Ashton
Written on Nov 07, 2017

He sat by the roadside in
worn tattered clothes
With tears down his cheeks
and a drip on his nose.
I searched in my mind for
something to say,
But by his vacant expression
he was too far away.

I noted his body, now so
frail, worn and thin.
Not that of an athlete who
had been born to win.
I recalled he'd been  
worshipped with highest
regards;
Runner-up in the world
in the two hundred yards.

Now time had elapsed,
there had been a world
war since then,
And that had destroyed
so many young men.
He was just one of many.
That is what he would
say,
Whose hopes and dreams
had been blown away.

He had served in the 
trenches, he had seen his
mates die.
Then, there was no time
to mourn them, no time
to cry.
No time for the fallen, no
time to stop,
It was just 'up and at 'em',
as you went over the top.

When it was all over, just
so you wouldn't think,
You would just grab a  
bottle and take drink after
drink.
You had been up there with
them. You had carried your
load – you ignore your mood,  
And it's much easier to  
drink than to think about
food.

Life becomes hazy, you  
drift in and out,
And when they carry you
home you just want to shout:
'What about those poor  
beggars, I saw them all  
slain,
And I dream every night
of the places they've lain.'

So Percy just sits there by
the side of the ditch,
Far too drunk to notice
that life is a bitch.
And those who remember
him as he was before
Salute the brave athlete
who was lost in the war.

BY
DARRYL ASHTON

 

Tags: Faith, Inspirational, Hope, Fear,

 

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