For I'm wearied of war
Take my boots and point them homeward
For I care to march no more
For I've held too many dying
Seen too many wounds that will not heal
Too many nights heard grown men weeping
Too many times I could not feel
Take my sword...
All the fathers and the mothers
And the children who must mourn
And the broken hearted lovers
Who must learn to love alone
Take my sword...
We are all soldiers on this field
And if you asked, again we would go
But please try to find the reason
Let this hell be war's last show
Take my sword...
Copyright © 2008 Mary-Elizabeth Bean
No comments:
Post a Comment