IS ( / Norway)

Suicide In The Trenches

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 crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.

You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

User Rating: 4,4 / 5 ( 89 votes ) 90

Other poems of SASSOON (165)

Comments (90)

A poignant piece of poetry written with clarity of thought and mind. An insightful work of art.
i hate my life, contemplating going to a trench rn
my nan was in the trenches
finally realized why i have daddy issues....
This was like me and my daddy before he jerked off all over my face, he died in jail
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