Empty Hats

• Bridgette Barberis, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2011

Come to me now oh Mother and clasp my dying hand,
All my mates have fallen in this God forsaken land.
The banks are steep and jagged, I’ve not made it very far,
I've fallen back on bended knee, my bayonet ajar.
It’s the 25th of April, 1915 you know,
I’m an Australian lad of seventeen, they called me outback Joe.
I look back as I am falling, to an ocean of floating hats,
The Turks are coming for us, we’ve been ambushed, we’ve been trapped.
Thousands of us have fallen for the freedom of our land,
So for all those who’ll remember us, please take my dying hand.
I am but an Aussie Digger and to our home land we’ll go together,
Back to the Roo’s and Dingo’s where our hearts will be forever.
As I wipe my blood sweat brow, my tears fill my wounded hands,
We have fought for this country, for the freedom of our land.
This is the Anzac Legend, I’m not an empty face,
Oh please mom and dad don’t forget me, and never forget this place.