So strange it is being at the front
What we were only few hours ago
Killing avoiding being killed

Lull in the battle

Stood in a battered destroyed trench
Mud oozing up covering my boots
Looking out to no man's land
Only the dead and those dying out there
Bits of bodies theirs alongside ours
Parts of bodies heads arms and legs
Hands some less their fingers and thumbs
Feet still booted
Pools of blood
Crows and ravens peck out the eyes from the heads and the heads of the dying
Rats sculling through the exposed ribs eating the lungs hearts liver kidneys
Holding off picking them off with my rifle - so giving myself away
And becoming a tasty meal for them rats
All Is True as Shakespeare wrote - none of that glory in that gore out there
Nor in this muddy bloody trench
Our new outrages normality a new elementary mentality
Oh what will we be like should we return home?

Ken D Williams

The Dyslexic Wordsmith Of Thanet

Poetry by ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 273 times
Written on 2019-07-11 at 13:21

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