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Saddling Up Anyway
His hands shook as he sat
On the side of the muddy shell ridden road
He had the makings of a cigarette down pat
But the shaking meant no smoke to ease his load
So he gave up on it then and stood tall
As he placed his Lewis gun on his shoulder
And walked towards the sound of the guns and the shells fall
With his mates marching on forever bolder
You see courage is being scared to death
But in saddling up any way
To face the worst in the Great War’s breath
As sometimes bravery is in just being able to stay.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Copyright ©
Paul Warren
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