A/N: Hey guys, so this is just a little poem I wrote; it's kinda what I imagine what Britain would be saying to himself after the war. Feel free to comment what you think the lines mean, would love to see your perspective on it.
Do you feel your sorrows, as heavy as lead?
Do you even remember the faces, so many, so dead?
Do you even hear the voices inside your own head?
Or do you just choose to ignore them instead
What happened to your days of glory and gold?
I swear throughout these years, you have grown so old
What happened to the days where you'd stand and be bold?
Now you're just some silly tale, told and retold
Now don't I recall that there used to be a child?
You were caring and kind, tame and mild
Oh, but didn't you change, weren't you riled
How you taxed and gunned, spat and reviled
You stupid fool, how you sit there and cry
You brought this on yourself, with your greed and your pride
How you take what you love, stab it with a lie
Can you be human? Could you just try?
I guess what you had, it's already lost
But see what you gained, but see what it cost
Take up your bearings, let out a great roar
All is not fair in love… or in war.