Two days before D-Day a young man died, in an accident, on a road, in Kent. He never saw the littered beaches or the sacrificed French towns that marked the route to liberation. He never posed with a captured swastika for the photographer with his new-fangled colour contraption. He never handed his girl nylon stockings and her heart's only desire.
OK, so I like this one a lot, is that a true story or is it just your feelings written thru a metaphore(spelling?)? If you don't mind sharing that with us anyway. I like the way you start every stanza with repeating ('He never...') which makes a good effect, and I also like the fact that it's very short.
It's not true, but it isn't meant as a metaphor. There's a lot of media recognition of D-Day at the mo, what with the 60th anniversary coming up in June, and I just got to thinking about it. You could say that those soldiers who died innocent "civilian" deaths were lucky, perhaps, to have been spared the whole experience, or did they miss out on something glorious....the girll back home not only wants her fella back, but there's a part of her wants a hero too...and this guy denied her both with his mundane end. Thanks for responding, and I'm glad you liked it.
great feel of rememberence here.. how war will take man from woman how it holds our love and life now to remember all that are gone to remind the pain, lovers felt before how sad we have not moved on war is not the way great poem i love the tale it tells.. love n peace from saff
It got me thinking early this morning, i was thinking more along the lines of the "unknown soldier", kinda the one who never got to see action, never saw the gory, the brutality that goes on in any war and who died durring basic training. Good poem Littleskinny, "got my head working again".
