We were the castanet units Nicked in the Zone of Advance, We were the shameless survivals, We were the liars from France. Gunners who tripped o'er the tripods, Casualties dug from a cave, Buddies arrayed in the bandage, Groomed for a grenadier's grave. We were the prides of the litters Lacking in only a knell, Hearing the field station mutter: "This one will never get well." Some of us got compensation -- All of the half of a year; Some of us got observation Over refusals to cheer. Still, there are times we are happy Soothed by this one circumstance -- We can talk Front Line with Black Jack, We are the liars from France. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LIVE AND HELP LIVE by EDWIN MARKHAM THE BOOK OF THEL by WILLIAM BLAKE JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY (FROM A WESTERNER'S POINT OF VIEW) by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE GOOD SHEPHERD by FELIX LOPE DE VEGA CARPIO |