Fallen
It hung upon his bedroom door,
A khaki suit worn no more,
He left to become a man
Ideas of freedom,
Equality and peace,
His dreams were naive
At the very least!
He followed his dreams,
To lands afar,
His dreams were wished upon to a wandering star,
He did his best, fought alongside his comrades,
The same as him, mainly lads,
They witnessed death ,blood, and gore,
Inside the boy was killed he was a lad no more,
As a man his life was short
The killing machines held their own kangaroo court.
He returned to his homeland laid in a box,
His life deceased and memories locked
It hangs upon his bedroom door,
A khaki suit worn no more,
Only the memories of the fine boy he'd been,
All his potential for greatness, silenced, unseen!
Remembering all those all over the world who have fallen in the quest for peace!
