One day the noise of the shells the sights that should not be seen will go away,
The shaking and the fear and sleepless nights will soon be a thing of your past,
Hiding inside in a darkened room your head in your hands rocking back and forth,
All will be a distant memory you will forget your three year misery in trenches.
Your haunted eyes will calm you will walk out into the sun again and not hide,
The stammering will go away along with your anger you will enjoy good company,
Your hideous scars will fade and you will get used to walking on your one leg,
Learn to accept pity these people want to help you they want to do their bit.
Wretched dreams you have about seeing thousands upon thousands of dead friends,
Memories, fields full of dead and dying screams for help you standing helpless,
Hating yourself, the cowardice you felt ignoring the dying not daring to watch,
This will pass time is a good healer just tell yourself you did what you could.
The thoughts of taking your own life because you cannot bare to shut your eyes,
Men bleeding dying just feet from your trench tell yourself I could do nothing,
You're a hero, you have a medal so forget these morbid thoughts they do not help,
They have a name for what you have got it's shell shock it does not sound serious.