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Burma
Contributed by
Wellington
on
Thursday, 19th June 2003 @ 01:05:00 AM in AEST
Topic:
war
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I lost my leg at Burma.
I lost my leg on a chance, when I gambled
My dignity, to save a passing thought.
Peace
And now I walk where the bandages roam
And stink of iodine and camphor
Like an old dog, and old man
A useless thing.
Now twixt oaken tree trunks of crutch
I hobble and dance unintentionally
While lads who play football scuffle
Around me like a goal post.
My eyes are dry, I don’t need to weep
I keep my hands busy as they fleck
And peck at the supports.
The Japs are coming.
Now. Rifle bucks and spins and turns.
My own is one the floor
Bedded comrade and companion
The World is dark.
Copyright ©
Wellington
... [
2003-06-19 01:05:00] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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