The price we paid is the blood we shed.
Our bones unmarked by granite stone.
We are alone here and we are dead.
We crossed open fields as our enemy fled.
First platoon entered a free fire zone.
The price we paid is the blood we shed.
Teenage kids at the point of the spearhead,
By our sacrifice that day we let it be known
We are alone here and we are dead.
We fought and died and left a field blood-red.
Our youthful corpses lying in grasses windblown.
The price we paid is the blood we shed.
Paddy fields and rocky hillsides serve instead
Of a deathbed where time and silence may atone.
We are alone here and we are dead.
We ask you, stranger, pause and read
our epitaph. Blest be our battlepoem!
The price we paid is the blood we shed.
We are alone here and we are dead.
Michael Pruchnicki
Chicago, Illinois
Michael Pruchnicki
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/battlepoem/
