suicide in the trenches

a poem from the great war to end all wars . we know how much truth there was in that statement . that's politicians for you.

I knew a simple soldier boy

who grinned at life in empty joy

slept soundly through the lonesome dark

and whistled early with the lark.

in winter trenches cowed and glum

with rats and lice and lack of rum

he put a bullet through his brain

no one spoke to him again.

you smug-faced crowds with kindling eyes

who cheer as soldier lads march by

sneak home and pray you'll never know

the hell where youth and laughter go.