The Aftermath
Although my blood I've shed
In war's red wrath,
Oh how I darkly dread
Its aftermath!
Oh how I fear the day
Of my release,
When I must face the fray
Of phoney peace!
When I must fend again
In labour strife;
And toil with sweat and strain
For kids and wife.
The world is so upset
I battled for,
That grimly I regret
The peace of war.
The wounds are hard to heal
Of shell and shard,
But O the way to weal
Is bitter hard!
Though looking back I see
A gory path,
How bloody black can be
War's Aftermath!
Robert William Service
The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets.
Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.