PALS

You May have died in vain, my lad;
For twenty yards of gain, my lad.
We all know who to blame, my lad,
They are nowhere near the line.

Those well protected boffins,
Set to nail us in our coffins;
To make our kiddies orphans;
And cause our womenfolk to pine.

We all joined up as one, my lad,
For a job that must be done, my lad,
And finish what’s begun, my lad
To protect what’s yours and mine.


©Bill Austin.