CENT stories

minervaCommunity member
Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
It's been a hundred years Since the boys came home


It's been a hundred years

Since the boys came home

But not to smiling faces or welcome meals

But to a shattered land and teary eyes

It was less of a welcome

A farewell again

The poppies have wilted

The bugles have echoed their last

But as I read a last letter

Striped in black

I can't help but wonder

Who was it from

A generation went, armed with glory

They don't speak anymore

Their words come out drool

But I understand what they saw

As they remember their youth

A time not spent in clubs

A time not known by trends

But by places shattered in war

But by names on stones and crosses

A time remembered not by those who lived

But by those who were gone

But now the year has changed

19 replaced by 20

Those who came home have gone back

To join their brothers' in arms

For what they fought for has now changed

For whom they fought have fallen

A 100 years later, it all seems in vain

The only things left are the graves upon them

And the songs they sang

Their laughter is gone, their uniforms have faded

Their arms are not in their hands

But locked away behind glass

But I'll rather remember them, by the songs

They sang of deeds so brave

Instead of the wreaths upon their grave

I won't remember them by how

They died

But rather,

By how they lived

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