A Yorkshire Poet Poet Dramatic Verse

Muddy Trench

For we stood
For we stood out there
On a field in France
Staring straight at death in its lair

Gun in hand, battle stare
For we fought
Man on man
Bayonet or bullet, hand to hand

For we screamed and we cried
Friends are dead; biding time!

For we thought in muddy trench
Loves we’d had, memories bend!

So I survived something you’ll never see
Cries in the night, screams on the breeze

You call me a hero because I came back?
Killed so many - I can’t come back!

I raise my glass to the fallen boys and men
Buried in the ash; some my friends

With you I’ll share a drink but don’t pretend that you could ever understand the hell of men.

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Lewis Raynes February 7, 2018 at 9:25 PM what an image filled and impactful poem JY, great write, none of us could imagine the true horror of trench warfare, so stark. good write A Yorkshire Poet February 8, 2018 at 1:12 AM Hi Lewis, I’m fascinated, humbled and in complete awe of what normal men went through in that war. Total respect. Thanks for your comments. Tiro.