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Screaming shells
A sea of mud
A living hell
Where the good died young
The stench of death forever hung
Over trenches
Filled with broken men
Whose sightless eyes
Remember when
The sun shone, 
And birds soared
Now freedom’s gone 
And cannons roar.
The sky rains death.
Mustard gas 
Steals every breath.
Lungs burning 
From the deadly smoke
Barbed wire rips, 
Young soldiers choke.
Sighing liquid sighs
They die
Without dignity, without glory
But back home it’s a different story
They are heroes, 
The cream of the crop 
Giving their all, 
Going over the top
Fighting for freedom, 
Dying proudly for peace
Not running shell shocked, 
Craving blessed release
To become a brilliant white cross 
In a strange land
Each epitaph simply
“A soldier” 
Who came here as a boy
But died like a man.

© By: - Pete Slater.





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