Running from the shells
Glimpses of my unlucky comrades
I hear their pain filled yells
I try to help some into the shade
The nasty stench of decay and burning smells
Mortality and death surrounds me
Guns and shells and sounds of bombs
The many places I'd rather be
My injuries and pain soothed by balms
"It's time for tea!"
"Let's put down our guns!"
"Mum, first can you look at my knee
It hurts"
I snap out of my daydream
If only this was a game
But these are real screams
These men will never be the same
