Grandad and His Boots by Zach, 7DN

These are the boots,

That returned without Grandad.

Boots that marched across barren beaches;

Waves at their laces,

Boots trudging through desolate streets,

Bodies and blood,

Leaving holes in his heart.

Boots that Grandad wore,

Through thick and thin,

A young courageous soldier.

Boots that suffered the silence.

People non-existent,

All at war,

Like Grandad and his boots.

His boots heard the spurious talk from Hitler,

Lying for his country.

His boots heard the roar of the tanks,

The whistles of the bombs,

He gave all he could.

His boots,

Worn and torn,

Like him, when he fell to the ground,

Lifeless.

We thought Grandad was coming home,

We hoped he was coming home,

We worried if Grandad was coming home.

But Grandad never came home,

Just his boots,

Which returned without him.