Mr Bruton

Thus the winter comes,
The chill of the bitter air.
The cold is a killer,
But yet we survive. 
The food has been rationed,
And the trenches are damp.
The mud swallows us,
But yet we survive. 
The Germans surround us,
With rifles and gas.
Stopping at nothing,
But yet we survive. 
When we got the call, we went over the top,
Bayonets were fixed, as our minds filled with shock.
Ducking and diving to craters in the ground,
Hands over my ears trying to block out the sound.
We were dropping like flies from the right and the left,
These men I stand with will fight to the death.
The battle was won and the poppies thrived,
The war may not be over, but yet I survived.

Get in Touch