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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Emotional · #1994199
Many veterans never forget the horrors they faced when they were in battle.

My Dad was with the Anzacs somewhere in World War One,
I never found out where he went or just what he'd done
When I asked him to tell about the places he did go
He'd softly say to me:"You don't want to know, boy,
You just don't want to know"

When I grew a bit and went to school I learned a little more
The stupid world in which I lived was in another war.
More young men sent off to fight and many lost their lives
Leaving grieving lonely women, 'stead of happy loving wives
You don’t want to know, boy.

My Dad was now too bloody old to be sent off to the fun
But he still went off to Darwin while Jap bombers did their runs
He did the work of soldiers, risks were near the same
Yet when I asked the questions the answer was the same;
“You just don't want to know"

My Dad was one who really liked a glass of beer, or three,
He'd drink himself into a fog, but was always kind to me.
I saw him drunk most every time that he had the chance,
Perhaps the beer helped to ease his memories of France.
You don’t want to know, boy.

I'll never know just where he went, the battles that he fought
I'll never know what was in his heart, or even what he thought,
"Cause when I asked the question, the answer I now know
"You don't want to know, boy, You just don't want to know."

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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1994199