Epic Trust me on this War is not glorious. Raised my own Jeuness dorÊe And watched him go to war. Was it I who instilled Duty, Honor, Country In the boundless joy Of my little boy? Now only trepidation From every news ration. Is my son in the action? Praying, hoping beyond all The hated herald won’t call. My only protection A little one stared flag And the ancient Hebrew cry Angel of death pass me by. Trust me on this War is not glorious Perhaps necessary But not glorious.
-Charles Harding
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