World War 1 Poem

He walks along story yet untold,

To his gun his hand finds and holds,

He seeks the truth for all to see,

What a terrible time war can be.

His misconception made him this man,

Bitter, twisted, of killing a fan,

He thought war would be easy and war would be fun,

At that time he knew not how to hold a gun.

Thrown in at the deep end, not taught how to kill,

He thought out of this he would get a thrill,

But what this man found was beyond human conception,

He wanted to turn, run in the opposite direction,

Join now!

Corpses rotting, lying all over the ground,

That was what this man had found,

The look in men’s eyes as they went over the top,

The sound of the rain going: drip, drop, drip, drop.

As if this wasn’t enough to drive you crazy,

He was taunted, called fat and lazy,

But who needs friends when you’re stuck in a trench?

Where the corpses let out an unbearable stench,

And when finally, no-mans lands awaits you,

You know what you must do,

But this is hard when fighting ...

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