1 min read
Слушать(AI)Suicide In The Trenches
I knew a simple soldier
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.
In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.
You smug-faced crowds with kindling
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never
The hell where youth and laughter go.
Siegfried Sassoon
Siegfried Loraine Sassoon, CBE, MC (8 September 1886 – 1 September 1967) was an English poet, writer, and soldier. Decorated for bravery on the
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
Wirers
‘Pass it along, the wiring party’s going out’— And yawning sentries mumble, ‘Wirers going out ’ Unravelling; twisting; hammering stakes with muffled thud, They toil with stealthy haste and anger in their blood The Boche sends up a flare<...
Died Of Wounds
His wet white face and miserable eyes Brought nurses to him more than groans and sighs: But hoarse and low and rapid rose and fell His troubled voice: he did the business well The ward grew dark; but he was still complaining And calling out f...
Memorial Tablet
Squire nagged and bullied till I went to fight, (Under Lord Derby’s Scheme) I died in hell— (They called it Passchendaele) My wound was slight, And I was hobbling back; and then a shell Burst slick upon the duck-boards: so I fell Into th...
Blighters
The House is crammed: tier beyond tier they grin And cackle at the Show, while prancing ranks Of harlots shrill the chorus, drunk with din; ‘We’re sure the Kaiser loves our dear old Tanks ’ I’d like to see a Tank come down the stalls, Lu...