Let my medals lie

Let my medals lie

Let my medals lie there,
To gather dust, in the draw,
I’ll not see them in there,
I’ll not look anymore,
For my pride in my land,
And my pride in my name,
Has been torn from my hand,
And I only feel shame.

For what I once fought for,
And for what brave men died,
Through the horror of war,
When the young widows cried,
Has all been foresaken,
And it all seems inane,
When good men were taken,
And I only feel shame.

There is blood in the sand,
Where we struggled that day,
There was blood on our hand,
But you gave it away,
We won the attack,
And free we’d remain,
But you handed it back,
And I only feel shame.

A Shame, that my England,
Is no longer free,
A Shame, that men died,
For a lost liberty,
A  Shame, that the ghosts,
Who watch over this,
Will witness our hosts,
The conspirators kiss.

Leave my medals there,
With my memories proud,
Leave me to my despair,
Of the heroes avowed,
To defend England’s shore,
Against all foe who came,
I’ll not look any more,
Now I only feel shame.

Mick.

About the author

Mick Westwood
21243 Up Votes
I am a 71 year old retired coal miner, who spent 30 years working underground. Having time on my hands, and in order to keep my brain exercised, I decided to try to write poetry and put down on paper some of my life experience, and my hopes, dreams and other thoughts. I also do a little gardening, but I am hopeless at housework. Much to my wife's displeasure.

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