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 (38)

He put a bullet through his brain. No one spoke of him again. these two phrases made how much brave this man it s a nice poem you read my poem
zoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooop
This poem rings truer than many will ever know or allow themselves to know.
no words, amazing, well written
I like your poem. It was nice.
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