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Poem

I hasten to place much faith in idle talk 
Reality tells me i am never getting out of here
Rather I am destined to die here 
Beside these other condemned band of brother's 
This sorry War friends has forced upon me to rely

Word has filtered through the end is nigh 
But though false dawns may lift the spirits
Of the uninitiated 
A seasoned second tour trench institutionalized vetran
I remember this more than my walls and streets of home

And what if the rumors are to be proved true
I Fear the Man I shall Return
Is no longer the carefree Boy who Left
Another lifetime ago

How am I to live out my Day's 
Knowing now what I have seen and done 
For King and Country

My Sunny Valentine has been replaced by my Riffle
And the reflection in my polished bayonet 
Bounces off my tin helmet 
I inherited from some poor soldier never going home

Make what sense of the following sentence 
You must
I will be sad to leave this place of untold misery 
Come that Day
Saying Goodbye will be paved with raw despair

For so many other reasons than those we lost
Along the way
You asked a boy to buy into this War
And now I stand before you a Soldier Sir

It isn't fair Sir
Please don't send me back Sir
This is all I know now

I love the way the shell's fall darkening the Sky
Exploding into shrapnel furness plumes of Death
The Mud 
The smell of human faces 
The bloodied broken bones 
Blown into a thousand piece's 
I am so accustomed now
I think Id miss shell shock

Once more over the top please Sir
The War isn't won or over yet

And Sir 
I am not ready to go home just yet

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