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THE BATTLE OF MONTE CASINO

SADNESS

I stood now the battle was nearly won and looked around in the morning sun.

Young Fusiliers, their bodies bent, all twisted to show that life was spent.

The cloth of uniform on bodies sagged where once proud creases had proudly lagged.

The officer who had proudly led, in heap-ed fashion also dead, a pistol sported in his hand, now lay useless on the land.

The wounded with their grievous scars, lay scattered and to my mind did scar, what fate decreed that I should live, and friends and comrades their lives to give.

The memory of war doth scour my mind and whilst I would not wish to be unkind, I wish with all the air I breath, as I grow older to believe, they did not suffer death and pain, for a nation that was all in vain.

The evil that corrupts this land, is plain to see at every hand, films that doth afflict the mind, of young and old, of every kind.

Now surgeons at the womb doth lance, to destroy the unborn babies chance, to lead a life that might be good as every worthwhile baby should.

The English church has lost its’ way and meanders life a beast of prey, forsaken the path our father’s took and departed from the world’s great book.

Now as I write this tragic verse and at man’s stupidity do curse, I pray that God will soon forgive and teach once more a way to live.

Frederick Robert Beacham

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