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WWI Battle
Blood in the gunshot wound.
Smoke from the fires loomed.
The man yelled out in pain.
As he said he will fight not once again.
Fighting through to battle torn trenches.
Puking because of the disgusting stenches.
Fighting through the mud, blood, and rum.
Seeing all the damage that’s been done.
He reaches all his fallen friends.
Knowing his life might surely end.
The moral has finally depleted.
Thinking they have been defeated.
But a new noise sounds.
Hearing all new gunshot rounds.
Over the hill a cavalry chases;
The enemy finally turns and speeds up their paces.
Knowing they have all been saved.
Laughing cause he’s gonna get a shave.
The men regroup in lonely sorrow.
regretting that they’ll be fighting tomorrow.
(2010)
This was my first written poem. Not the best, but I feel it has meaning.
