passchendaele 1917

by | Sep 16, 2023 | Poetry | 0 comments

The land is killing me the soil weights a ton I had to carry all my kit helmet and gun.
The land is killing me the mud and stones of passchendale are heavy and keep me on the ground.

I cry out for my mother please listen to my cries the tears are so heavy as the fall down from my eyes the war is really changing me what I think of life especially the young soldiers who have a family and a wife.

Now this land has finally killed me my headstone weighs a ton I am also thinking of my soldier mates who lie beside me each and every one.

Dead soldiers tell a story of lifes so sadly lost it was another war of many soldiers and civillian lifes that where lost. As our spirits rise above our headstones of the fields of Passchendale we hope that God will help us as man has truly failed.


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