Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

Poem of the Day

Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

Poem of the Day

Article excerpt

The Trenches GOD is with you all is fine, grab your rifle hold the line, Sergeant's call the order out, "over the top", we heed the shout. Young men always fight a war, just to prove themselves I'm sure, Those in charge all know this trait, young men realise too late.

King and country, kill the hun, even though it's someone's son, Young men's mothers wail and cry, pray to god their sons don't die. Politicians hatch their plan, they don't fight but others can, Safe at home and in their bed, counting sheep instead of dead. Children lost, eternal sleep, brothers follow them like sheep, Bayonets fixed and off they go, leave the trench to fight the foe. No man's land and bullets whine, Tommy thinks "is this one mine". Is it glory, or a sin, when you push the bayonet in.

Fighting in a German trench, with the same disgusting stench, German blood just seeps away, he won't fight another day. …

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