Sonneteer

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Date: Wednesday, November 11th
To: adelia1032@mech.wqu.edu
From: wills1337@eng.wqu.edu
Subject: Wilfred Owen

There is a place in every poet’s heart
for those poor men who died before their time
in muddy trenches, bodies thrown on carts
and buried in a pit with shovelled lime.
Yet still they tried to tell the world in verse
the horrors that they witnessed, that consumed
Europe’s best and brightest in the worst
mass murder of the century, resumed
a scant two decades later once again,
but with no poets in the second round
to give account of the human pain,
record forever some poor man’s last sound.
To Wilfred Owen we should pay the debt:
To read his work, and never to forget.

Copyright (C) 2009 TJ Radcliffe (Some Rights Reserved)

Tags: killing, nationalism, patriotism, poem, poetry, sonnet, war

This entry was posted on Tuesday, November 10th, 2009 at 8:25 pm and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.