A/N: Hey guys, I know its been a while. Anyway this is a poem I had to write for my English speech about Australian war poems. The picture at the side is what I had to base it off. Please take a look, any criticism is welcome. Please don't hate, I don't mean to offend anyone with this poem; this is just my understanding of what an Aussie solider would have been thinking on Kokoda. Enjoy!
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Each man comes in strong and able,
Their heads held high upon squared shoulders.
Within the week their steps will falter,
Their heads will droop like wilting petals
For on Kokoda each man will be taken by the foe.
The jungle towers around our men,
Each tree, each bush a hidden chest
For deadly treasures that rain upon our weary souls.
Like creeping vines, the Japanese advance
Until with utter silence another blind fly falls.
As one conflict ends another begins,
A steady struggle against the jungle.
Dysentery, disease and dying breaths.
An uphill battle fought with battered limbs
Each twist, each turn could mean sudden death.
Two enemies loom over us,
Joining effortlessly to taunt our broken spirits
As we battle ahead between streams of flying bullets,
And torrents of mud and muck.
No longer are we soldiers holding the front.
We are the lost men on Kokoda track.