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Little Wooden Crosses

Rows and rows they stand in
All so quiet and still
All those little wooden crosses
Lined up on the hill
All so individual
But every one the same
Because they all just got killed
In the same brutal way
They all went for the adventure
Not realising the pain
Of losing your loved ones just by going away
The things they saw and the things they heard
Would make any man go insane
So most of them just gave up and started to fade away
So that's why they now stand there on that little hill
Silenced forever by the icy chill.

by Ellie Barnfather (0)
The Gregg School, Southampton

Competition - War Of Words

Copyright remains with the author.