This is a beach that tells a story,
of death, destruction,
followed by war time glory.
At Omaha Beach,
the Allies had landed,
with shower's of gunfire
that left men stranded.
Upon this beach,
ran men that were brave,
a beach that soon,
was to become their grave.
On they ran,
to the sound of the call,
but no one stopped,
they just let them fall.
Bullets kept falling,
like rain from the sky,
there was no place for cover,
and nowhere to die.
The sea and the sand
ran the color of red,
where hundreds lay dying,
and many more dead.
Men who had not fought
in a battle before.
Lay dead on the beach
without seeing the war.
Yet still they came,
with heads held high,
to fight the enemy
or to lay down and die.
They ran like Cheaters,
on an African Plain
to advance on the enemy
that had caused the pain,
the pain of a world
that was torn by war.
It was time for Deliverance,
to settle the score.
The Allies, had landed
then took a strong hold
as the casualty list,
began to unfold.
"The D Day Landing"
had not been in vain,
but the heavy loss of life,
in our memories remain.
This poem was written to commemorate the anniversary of the D Day Landing
