CHANGES
A young soldier I saw, proud and brave was he,
Off to fight for freedom. His country and family,
Much later I saw him, just a shell of that man
Who went bravely to fight death not part of the plan,
Friends and brothers had died, his father gone too,
The sting of death missed but broke him right through,
He never was the same when he returned home alive,
He often used to wonder how he should seem to survive.
His wife and children tried to understand, it was hard
When at times he was even afraid to enter the back yard,
Crying out in the night yelling, ‘are you friend or foe’
It seemed the cruel hurt of war could never let him go,
But with love and sweet caring he began to heal,
And almost normal after many years began to feel.
Then his own son stood a soldier all brave and proud,
Another world war upon us, should that be allowed?
To the father’s mind all the pain came flooding back again,
Knowing of the death his son would see, all the great pain,
This tender hearted son now married with a new baby boy,
Would he be killed and never know of sweet family joy?
They all went to the railway station, many families in pain,
Each wondering if they would see their loved one again,
But there was one soldier boy all alone he appeared to be,
There seemed to be no caring, weeping, loving family.
He said to one soldier, ‘there’s no one to care if I die,’
He said it with a painful tear in his deep blue sad eye.
Those families close by took his name and stationed place,
Promised they would write, more tears stained each face,
He waved with the others as the train went out of sight,
Everyone prayed hard that each soldier would be alright.
The lonely boy was not forgotten letters came his way,
And when on leave his always had somewhere to stay.
I will not finish the story of which servicemen returned,
How many honours and meddles each of them earned,
But we have a debt of honour to all those who fought
That we should love all men and the evil of war taught.
I will be a lover of peace and strive to love all mankind,
Every night pray that all wars well be at last confined.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson 16 October 2004