by Alex Roissetter | Sep 28, 2009 | Poetry
Far away there is a cross of brass, That stands at the mouth of hell, A symbol of the fight, With the names of those that fell. Before it kneels a soldier, As if in solemn prayer, Whispering simple words, For brothers that have climbed heavens stair. After the deed is...
by Alex Roissetter | Sep 22, 2009 | Poetry
Six abreast come marching, With boots and brasses glow, Each in step with the time, Their movements seem to flow. Slowly they move down the ramp, A truly perfect stride, With chins up and backs straight, It would well you up with pride. But there are no smiles on this...
by Alex Roissetter | Aug 6, 2009 | Poetry
Where ever there is a war, A poet will surely be there, With a rifle in his hands, And bullets snapping through his hair. Like all of his brothers, He will stand and fight, Till his very last breath, Under the suns blistering light. His every feeling and thought, Will...
by Alex Roissetter | Jul 26, 2009 | Poetry
We are going down town, And over the seven hills, The long way round, With a body full of pills. All of my blisters have burst, The feelings drained from my limbs, This really is the worst, So where is my promised Pims? With the screaming of the crowd, And the...
by Alex Roissetter | Jun 28, 2009 | Poetry
Old enough to kill, Old enough to die, Old enough to follow, Never to find out why. To hell and back again, We will gladly go, Travelling through the mists of war, Searching for the foe. How many have we lost? How many more will die? How many tears need to be shed, To...
