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.

by Siegfried Sassoon

Other poems of SASSOON (165)

Comments (70)

This poet was a World War 1 soldier who fought courageously for your freedom. He won the Military Cross, for crying out loud. And these comments make me want to friggin' weep. People either commenting like this poet wrote this last week, and is 'really good' (he'd be delighted if he hadn't died in the 60's) , or apparently wasting their lives writing sexually explicit nonsense, which, by the way, sounds screamingly gay to me. My God, I despair.
The poem is my favourite now and I have only just read it! Xx I am doing it for a school project and this website is lit helpful I would suggest this to everyone!
Nice. Maybe I should join the army.
This poem does not meet me standards. It is pure. I feel like I want to dent my in with a huge wrench from daddys drawer and then screw my eye lids shut so I don't have to look at your ugly mug face. me.
THEY SHOULD HAVE DABBED ON THAT BODY SON. I KNOW DADDY DABBED ON MY BODY
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