Soldier Speaks 1945 - Mary Traylor Lyons
Written in 1945 – Mary Traylor Lyons
So you’re sick of the way the country’s run, and you’re sick of
the way the rationing’s done,
And you’re sick of the standing around in a line, you’re sick,
you say – well that’s just fine.
So am I sick of the sun and the heat, and I’m sick of the feel
of my aching feet,
And I’m sick of the mud and the jungle flies, and I’m sick of
the stench when the night mists rise,
And I’m sick of the siren’s wailing shriek, and I’m sick of the
groans of the wounded and weak,
And I’m sick of the sound of the bomber’s dive, and I’m sick of
seeing the dead alive.
I’m sick of the roar and the noise and the din, I’m sick of the
taste of food from a tin,
And I’m sick of the slaughter-I’m sick to my soul, I’m sick of
playing a killer’s role,
I’m sick of blood of death and the smell. and I’m even sick
of myself as well.
But I’m sicker still of a tyrant’s rule, and conquered lands
where the wild beasts drool,
And I’m cured darned quick when I think of the day, when all this
hell will be out of the way,
when none of this mess will have been in vain, and the lights of
the world will blaze again,
And things will be as they were before, and kids will laugh in
the streets once more,
And the Axis’ flags will be dipped and furled, and God looks down
on a peaceful world.
@1945 Mary Traylor Lyons
Submitted by Jennifer Nichols