Through pain and suffering,
loss and tragedy,
bravery and honour,
love an heartbreak come our heroes.
They don't wear a red cape,
nor can they fly,
but under our nations symbol,
they fight for our freedom.
Whilst we snuggle warmly in our homes,
they endure the stench of rotting bodies.
In our beds we sleep soundly,
in muddy trenches they work.
We take for granted each day as they come,
often cursing the simple duties we must do.
But they fear a bullet through their chest,
and curse god for the death of their friend.
With-in our communities,
with our friends and our family,
the least we can do,
the simpliest of things,
is to create a memorial,
a structure or thanks and honour,
the expression of true appreciation.
You've portayed the hardships beautifully, keep writing your poems;)