The Bridge

by | Mar 26, 2009 | Poetry | 0 comments

Interned until the end of the war,
The Rest Of the World, they never saw.

The treatment of prisoners, from Commonwealth Nations,
When building a railway. Japanese stations.

Through jungle so dense, you could hardly see,
The prisoners hacked to carve an alley.

Then the track was laid, more men died,
“If the world only knew!” the prisoners sighed.

When more than ten thousand, men had perished,
The Railway complete, the line was finished.

Right up to today, the world asks “Why?”
So many of our men just had to die.

If you need, to see proof of the story,
Go to the graveyard at Kanchanaburi.

There you will see the graves and cry,
For the men who built a Bridge at the Kwai.


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