From a Lancaster Bomber Air Gunner

My pain has stopped for I am dead.

My time on earth is done.

But in a hundred years from now

I’ll still be twenty-one.

 

My brief sweet life is over,

My eyes no longer see,

No summer walks, no Christmas trees,

No pretty girls for me.

 

I’ve got the chop, I’ve had it ,

My daily flights are done.

Yet in a hundred years from now,

I’ll still be twenty-one.

 

Submitted by Joe Evans, (nearly 93) to Burton Latimer Magazine after he recently discovered the poem to commemorate D Day