Submitted by Greg Olson in the 18+ category
November 11- a date some soldiers dread,
Memories of sleeplessness, blood, cold and the dead,
Of hunger, thirst, flies and the hole,
The ever increasing casualty roll.
I hear the bagpipes and the drums,
I cover my ears, I drink the rum.
My tears flow freely for the friends I lost,
My people, my country, my freedom, this is the cost.
Thank you for remembering my hidden sorrow,
I’ll soldier on for today and tomorrow.