The Dread of Battle
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Image credit. - irishtimes.com
Shrill whistle blew as we crossed over the wire
Charged at the Germans who opened fire
Those who had run up ahead
Fell first; now lay dead,
I felt fear,
Dread,
Death was near,
Puddles had turned red,
Run zig zag, my friend had said,
Numb my mind Lord, it's all I desire
Shrill whistle blew as we crossed over the wire.
Written 16th July 2020
For Anderee Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May.
Copyright © Tom Cunningham | Year Posted 2020
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