Thursday, March 21, 2013

A Boy a War and a Dream

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All wars will once be forgotten

Even though that fact seems rotten

War, like tides, ebb and flow

They are hot when they are hot, and not when they are not

We rush to them with anxious feet

We roll out the bugles, the drum strikes a beat

They come, they go, they eventually run cold, as you know

I was a boy, like so many these days

Anxious to grow up, to become a man, a soldier was my way

A young soldier in search of myself

We can hate wars, as we well should, but this boy grew up

I grew to know all people are real, they hate,they love, and eventually heal

As new soldiers are finding out

War cries start with a shout

But they too will come to know, wars on a land they come and they go

On a land is one thing, the bombed acreage and sites heal

But to many a soldier, wars, well your youth, your sanity they can also steal

I cannot tell you about horrors of any war

Most don't believe me, they have to sail to that shore

You cannot prepare for any battles or fights

But I assure you, wars are all a terrible sight

So wars start with a cry and a shout

They start with a bugle charge and a drum roll

But believe me when I tell you, on you, young soldier, the rest of your life a war takes its toll