Down in the trenches it mattered not the shade of your skin.
Be it by the blade of a bayonet or a bullet you were to meet the maker by the hands of your kin.
Fighting a war that would only bring chaos and poverty to humanity.
The bomb shells and bullets overheard shaking your sanity.
The first world war only to usher in the second such profanity.
But amidst the colonial demise of world war two.
Many of many colours battled shoulder to shoulder breaking through the fascist power that had accrued.
As bullets whipped through the skies and through corpses too.
It was always red blood that ruptured through flesh and spewed.
The violence that ensued meant that people were drafted from every corner of the different empires.
Down in the trenches and battlefields everyone equal in the battle's hell fires.
For racism retired in the face of the great wars gone.
When we look across the fields of Ypres and the Somme.
We see soldiers' graves and the names are gone.
One thing is sure though down in the trenches and battlefields they were united as one.
Then one day peace across the land was a song that was sung.
The men and the women laid down their guns.
The war to end all wars twice done.
The second time fascism was shunned and retired.
Imperial empires were no longer sighed.
Always remember in a world war every colour was hired.
Fighting for freedom and the peace that they aspired.
The uniforms different but when bullets were attired.
The body were dismembered and bled all the same.
It did not matter your colour nor class they all waited for armistice day to reign.