March, March
The drums of death
Are beating out the beat.
March, March
Now quicken your step
Oh hear the marching feet.
March, March
My young boys march
March swiftly death to meet
Be brave and defend another's foes
March now tour fate to greet.
March, March
Our sons are dead
The drums no longer play
Our boys have died to save your pride
March now is what you say?
March, March
Take up the drum that my son
dropped in flight
Take up the beat YOURSELF and march
And your own battle fight.
Listen to your drum of death
Beating out the beat
March, March, Now quicken your step
Oh hear YOUR marching feet.
March, March
Commander march
Your death you soon shall meet
March, March
And in the end
You too, your fate, you'll greet!
How does this poem make you feel? What was your general impression?
Comments
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Ah..this is indeed a hearfelt scenario you crafted my friend...quite thought provoking and touching as well...well voiced...
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Great cadence!
How true that we send out our sons to answer the call of violence. This poem really touches my heart and makes me realize that war is never the answer to the issues that so easily beset us.
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grandmother this made me cry when i read it and i dunno why but i feel like this should come from the 1860s not today but still beautifu
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wars are so un assuring and the heartbreak shadows life through out eternity, very nice write, thank you for sharing
good luck
Lin
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