8 young boys
went of to war,
Their heads held high
As they left Belfast's shore
4 men returned,
Their heads to the floor
4 friends they lost
And so much more.
2 men stand slowly,
As a tear runs down each face,
They think of all he lost
And this their resting place.
1 French field looks empty,
But all is not as it seems,
As just beneath the surface
Lies boyhood shattered dreams.
©spor
