THE CENOTAPH

A poem I wrote about our cenotaph. Every town in Britain has one of these grisly reminders of the Great War and every war thereafter. At first, they were places of pilgrimage for the patriotic, who came to honour their glorious dead. Now, however, they are used by many different swathes of society as places of rebellion. Then there are the drunks and drug addicts, who seem to favour and gravitate towards these ancient monuments, almost like druids worshipping within the circle of Stonehenge.